#give me all the teeth-rotting fluff with them

[mrsmnsn]

“It looks better on you anyway…”

summary: you’ve been dating for a while and, to make you officially his, Eddie gives you something very special….

*no warnings only fluff (ok maybe there’s a bit of a suggestive content here but nothing too serious)*

(i had this draft for a while now and i loooove this headcannon! hope you like it as much as i do)

“What do you mean by it’s not official?” You desperately asked Robin

“Wait a minute, i didn’t say that! It is official, just not official official.” She says sipping her drink.

“Robin you’re not making any sense right now.” Nancy replies seeing how nervous you got.

The three of you were having a girls night at a bar, only to gossip, have some drinks and celebrate womanhood. But now, after a few drinks, you shared with the girls your story with Eddie and how it was when you finally got to be together. It was actually so casual and simple because Eddie knew you didn’t like to cause a big scene and to have all attention to you. So you had a nice date and on the way back to your house, before you could get in, he asked if you wanted to be his girl and if he could be your boyfriend. You didn’t waist a minute and involved him in a hug and a lot of kisses.

“I’m just saying that some couples like to make a gesture to make it official, so everyone else can see they’re taken. And, in your case, that’s not what happened.” Robin explains herself and now your head was thinking of all the things Eddie might have given to you

“Didn’t you hear her story? That was exactly the opposite Eddie was trying to do, he wanted to be a special moment for just the two of them. I think that’s very sweet of him.” Nancy and Robin keep arguing when it comes to you

“So you’re saying that hypothetically he was supposed to give me something, like a ring?” You interrupt them making both girls look at you

“He’s not supposed to do anything, but yes, that’s what i meant.” She replied and then started to tell a story about one of her old friends.

By the end of the night, Eddie picks you up and takes you to his place, as you agreed. You were going to spend the weekend with him.

“Hey pretty girl! How was girls night?” He kisses the top of you head and help you get in his van.

“It was very nice, but you know how Robin can get very excited about some stuff and how Nancy doesn’t agree with her but still tries to be nice and it goes on and on.” He laughs at your words and he enters the van too. “But you’ll see, i’m still going to make them become best friends!”

You keep talking about your night to him and you two stay in a comfortable silence listening to one of his Black Sabbath tapes until you get to his home. He turns off the car and before he could hop off, you stop him.

“What is it sweetheart?” He asked looking at your face, searching for something wrong.

“Can i ask you something?” You look at his hands full of rings holding yours.

“Of course you can, you can ask me anything.” He said and his tone couldn’t be sweeter

“Earlier we were taking about dating and the girls asked me how it was when you asked to be my boyfriend, and i told them. But Robin said that even though it was the most teeth-rotting story ever there was something wrong, something was missing…”

Eddie was scared of your next words but still encouraged you to continue.

“She said that normally, after a while, it’s common for the guy to give to his girlfriend something, like a gesture or a gift i don’t know. But that’s supposed to be like an affirmation of the relationship… You know what, forget it, it’s fucking stupid.” You give up on telling him what you wanted and turn to leave the car.

“Hey hey, wait a minute. There’s nothing stupid about that! You can take your time, but i want to hear it.” Eddie says, giving your hands gentle rubs.

“I feel stupid asking you this, and you know how you are my first boyfriend so i’m not sure how things are supposed to be now…” You organize the words in your head before you tell him. “Alright, hm, I was going to ask if maybe you plan to do that… i don’t want you to give me anything, and i know we’re not dating for a impressive long time and maybe we’re supposed to wait a bit more for that, i don’t even know if you are expecting me to give something to you. I am a bit lost…” You said everything too fast and got lost on your own words. But Eddie listened to you very carefully and understood what was happening.

“Are you saying that you want something, this ‘gesture’, to officialize our relationship?” He asked and looked at your eyes “Well, i wasn’t actually thinking of giving you something right now, but now that you said that i’m thinking of something here…” He let go of your hands and put them behind his neck. “ I really like the idea of people seeing that you are taken, that you are only mine… turn around, please.”

You were confused but still, you turn around and you can feel him getting closer. So close that your back is hitting his chest. He starts to whisper when you see him put his necklace in front of you.

“What do you think babe?” His soft voice rings in your ear and you admire his hands holding his necklace that you always made sure to tell him how much you loved it on him, of how attractive he looked with the pick hanging over his chest. “I know how much you like this, and imagine that… you walking around with this very specific necklace around your neck. This screams ‘i have a fucking man, he’s a rockstar, a hottie, and im all fucking his’. Uh, i loved that!”

You were smiling and blushing at his words as he lifted your hair up and put the necklace on you. You didn’t know what to say and got all nervous but you were relieved he liked your idea.

“I loved it Eds, thank you!” You dropped your hair and looked at the pick now hanging in the middle of your tits.

“I loved the placement don’t you.” He teases you and you can hear his mischievous smile and the way he’s giggling when you shove him. “I’m serious, i can imagine already, you on top of me and the pick hanging there and… wait a minute. THATS WHY YOU LIKED IT SO MUCH!

You start to laugh and cover your face embarrassed. “Shut up Eddie!”

“No baby, don’t hide your pretty face. Let me see you.” You lean into his body again and look up at him. “You do look very attractive with it.” And as he speaks, you can feel his hand on your jaw, making you look up at him, and the other, caressing your thigh.

“What about you? I don’t want to just take your necklace like that.”

“Don’t worry sweetheart, i can make another one for me so we can match, if that’s your concern.” He says teasing you once again. “But now that’s your necklace. It looks better on you anyway, so”

You just close your eyes, feeling him touching your nose with his before he kisses you passionately. Even after lots of shared kisses between the two of you, he still manages to take your breath away.

“Come on, let’s go inside.” He opened his door and yours too, being the gentleman he is, and with an arm thrown around your shoulder, he leads you inside. “Maybe we can test that theory, to see if the pick will look good on you when you’re on top of me.” He makes you giggle and you playfully slap his chest as you walk up and open the door.

“Maybe…”

[n30draws]

just two casual, professional business partners

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

I really loved your career day fic and I was wondering if you could do a Shut up mom fic with the same lineup with nanami tho if you write for him🥺 👉👈

Shut up, Mom!

Tags: teeth rotting fluff, mostly crack, cursing, jjk men as dads / fem!reader

An: I would be delighted to write this anon :) my requests are open, loves. If you want me to write a specific idea, definitely ask and I’ll try to deliver on it! also, if anyone wants to be on a taglist please let me know. So, I gave Sukuna a kid in this one because I didn’t really see Yuji calling you mom or him dad. Yuji calls you two unc and auntie :)

SATORU • SUGURU • TOJI • SUKUNA • NANAMI

SATORU

“Aoi, did you take out the trash?” You ask your nine-year-old son while trying not to giggle. Aoi has recently discovered pranks, and he suggested playing one on Satoru. You couldn’t help but think that was an amazing idea.

Your husband was leisurely sitting on the couch, playing a game on the console he and your son shared. He was able to see you from his peripheral vision while you and Aoi were in the dining room. He didn’t seem to be too intrigued by the conversation, but Satoru is a chronic eavesdropper. He can’t help it with his technique and all.

“No, mom. Why can’t you do it?” Aoi plays his role perfectly, even throwing in an annoyed groan at you. Gojo cut his eyes towards you two, but he stayed silent for a moment. He knew this was your battle to face, and he wasn’t usually the disciplinary parent anyways.

“Because I told you to do it, Aoi. It’s your chore.” You say, putting on a serious voice as you would if he had really been sassing off to you.

“Ugh. Shut up, mom!” Aoi yells with a dramatic eye roll.

Immediately, you hear the game console cut off. It seems like you two had garnered Satoru’s attention. Footsteps carry into the dining room, and your all too tall husband leans against the doorframe.

Aoi sees his father, and his eyes widen. Your little actor. He then tries to walk off, but Satoru easily put his hand out against Aoi’s chest, preventing him from going anywhere.

“Woah, woah, woah, there little man. Who do you think you’re talking to there?” He interjects as his hands slowly unwrap his bindings from around his eyes, letting you know that he’s about to get serious.

“She’s getting on my nerves, dad!” Aoi continues to play the role, even though you can tell that he’s scared shitless.

“Hey, look at me.” Satoru says as he bends his knees to be eye level with Aoi. Your son complies with his dad’s order. “I don’t give a shit, okay? Never, and I mean, never tell your mother to shut up unless you intend on fighting me afterwards. She says to take out the trash, you say yes and take out the trash. Do you understand me?” Satoru says as he holds his son’s shoulders, squeezing them a bit so Aoi knows he’s not fooling around.

“Because I don’t think you want to fight me, do you?” Satoru questions. His blue eyes beam in the light, making your son nervously sweat.

“Baby, it’s just a prank.” You quickly interject with a laugh as you gently nudge your husband away from your son.

“Yeah dad, I was just acting!!” Aoi’s nervous gaze flutters into an adorable smile.

Satoru rolls his eyes and playfully laughs along. “You two are too silly, makin’ me turn off my game for this.” He shakes his head as he wraps his eyes back up.

“You were like gonna hollow purple me!” Aoi shouts with an excited laugh, and he reenacts Satoru’s cursed technique.

“Yeah, I love your mom a little too much.” Satoru responds with a grin up towards your direction.

SUGURU

Mimiko and Nanako are coming into their teen years, and recently, they’ve been obsessed with the idea of TikTok. After seeing the “shut up mom” prank all over, they knew that they had to play it on Suguru.

You, of course, agreed to help them pull off their little shenanigan.

“You two are not going out. It’s a school night.” You chide at the twin girls, giving them a small wink as Suguru was enjoying a cup of tea while sitting at the breakfast bar. He was scrolling mindlessly on his phone, reading the news or something like that.

“Mom, please. Everyone’s going.” Nanako pled and even threw in a small pout.

“Yeah, who cares if it’s a school night?” Mimiko chimed in.

“Girls.” Suguru warned as he normally did when you were having to deal with the twins. He didn’t like the idea of the girls ganging up on you.

“I said no. I bet you two didn’t even do your homework yet either.” You carry on, eyeing the two girls as if they were really in trouble.

“Ugh! Mom, shut up!” The girls somehow managed to say in sync. The two had obviously practiced their lines.

The tea glass hit the counter, and Suguru a stood up from his seat on the stool. “Hey. I don’t ever want to hear that kind of language in this house, especially not to your mother. Got that?” He said as he eyed your daughters.

Your husband was a bit of a strict father to the girls. He really just wanted them to turn out good, so he was the main disciplinary figure in the house.

“Dad! She’s-“

“Aht.” He cuts Mimiko off, and starts to walk up to the girls. “I didn’t ask. Apologize to your mother this instant. Then, go upstairs and do your homework. You two are grounded from going out for at least a month.”

“Sugu, it’s a prank.” You say as you can’t hold back a laugh from how angry he got that quickly. “It’s a prank, sweetie.”

Your two girls were nodding quickly, holding their hands out in surrender. “We saw it on TikTok!”

Suguru rolls his eyes at the three of you. “That app is no good for you.” He quietly chides. “Did you two do your homework?”

Mimiko and Nanako exchange nervous glances, and they both run up to their rooms to get it done.

Your husband laughs quietly and shakes his head before sitting back down on his stool. You walk over towards him and card your fingers through his long hair. He lets out a long exhale of contentment while leaning his head into your touch. “What are we gonna do with those two, hm?”

“Love them and try our best to teach them.” You softly respond before pressing a kiss to his cheek.

TOJI

Toji is a pretty laid back dad. He lets you take the lead on a lot of the parenting aspects, since it comes to you more naturally than it does with him. However.. he has his moments.

“Megumi, come help me do the dishes.” You say to your 13-year-old son. He’s in that weird stage of puberty where you’re his best friend one day and his worst enemy the next, which means he sometimes agreed to play pranks with you.

“Busy, mom.” He mumbles at the table as he’s trying to learn the hand signs for one of his shikigami. He was left learning this stuff on his own since Toji wasn’t a sorcerer, and you weren’t apart of the Zenin clan. You had no idea how to do the hand gestures.

“You can do that after you’re done helping me, Gumi.” You say as you turn on the kitchen sink. Your son doesn’t even acknowledge that you said anything.

Toji eyes him from his seat at the dining table, waiting for his son to comply.

“Gumi. Get in here.” You finally say after a minute of him not responding to you.

“Shut up, Mom!” He raises his voice at you, and immediately, Toji is on him quicker than you could respond.

“What did you just say to your mother, brat?” Toji grits as he stares down at his teenage son. Megumi looked back up at him mortified. “I brought you in this world, and I will take your ass out of it if I hear you speak to your mom like that again.”

“Baby, baby, baby, it’s a prank!” You say as you rush over to Toji. Megumi cracks a nervous smile, and you gently nudge Toji back.

“It’s a prank!” Megumi shouts as he leans back away from Toji slightly.

Your husband lets out an annoyed grunt. “You two play too much. Gonna make me kill my own son.” He says as he releases Megumi’s shoulder. He walks back over to his seat at the dining table and smacks your ass on the way back.

SUKUNA

“Ryu, come take out the trash!” You yell to your son. He recently brought up the idea of pranking Sukuna by yelling at you to shut up in front of him. You had urged your son that this was a bad idea, but he was persistent.

Sukuna was sat at the dining table, eating whatever Uraume had prepared for him. Usually, Uraume handled the trash as well, but you distinctly told them to leave it.

There’s no response.

“Ryu! Trash now!” You call out again in a more frustrated tone.

Sukuna is biting his tongue at this point. There is nothing that he hates more than insolence, especially towards you. You’re his queen, and he demands for all to respect you, including his son.

No response.

“Ryu!”

“Okay mom! Shut the fuck up!”

All four of Sukuna’s eyes widened, and he put down his fork. “Domain expansion. Malevolent-“

“It’s a prank!” You shout as you spin to look at Sukuna quickly. Your son is standing behind you, quite literally trembling in fear.

“Yeah- it’s a p-prank, dad.” Ryu stutters out.

Sukuna narrows his gaze, and he looks between the two of you. “Foolish.” He grunts. “Boy, come have a seat.” He commands, and your son reluctantly complies.

“If you ever pull some shit like that seriously, I’m not afraid to start over and make a new kid. I got nothing but time on my hands.” Your husband says while eyeing your son.

“Ryu’s a good kid, Kuna.” You assure him as you walk over to your husband and rub on his shoulders a bit.

“Mmm, for now.” He mumbles, and he nods his head to the trashcan. “Take the trash out.”

NANAMI

Your husband was sitting in the living room, enjoying his “lazy Sunday” as he called it. He had a cup of coffee in one hand and a book in the other. He couldn’t help but feel incredibly grateful for the life he was living right now.

He had everything he ever dreamed of: a stable job, an amazing wife, a small family in a loving home.

You were sitting next to him, casually rubbing on his thigh through his pajama pants. You and your daughter had been texting about playing a prank on your dear husband, and it was finally going to happen.

“Hana, did you fold the clothes like I told you to?” You call out to your daughter as she’s in her bedroom. Nanami turns a page in his book, still not paying too much attention.

“Mom, I’m doing something!” Your daughter yells back.

“Hana, get in here and fold those clothes!” You shout back, getting a bit more serious. Nanami lets out a small sigh as he places his mug on the coffee table. He’s normally quick to nip Hana’s attitude in the bud.

“I’m busy!”

“Hana!”

“Okay mom! Just shut up already!” She finally yells as she storms into the living room. Nanami shuts his book and immediately stares down your daughter.

“What did you just say?” He asks as he sits up from his cozy position. His jaw tightens a bit as he glares at Hana.

“I just told her to shut up. She’s being overdramatic.” Your daughter continues, playing her part perfectly.

“Who’s her? Your mother? You’re telling my wife to shut up?” Nanami says as he starts to stand up.

“It’s just a prank, Ken!”

“Dad, it’s a prank-!”

You and your daughter both shout nervously, and Nanami looks at both of you confused for a moment. It then clicks in his head. “God, don’t stress me out like that.” He chides as he relaxes back on the couch. He wraps his arm back around you and picks up his book again.

[acid-ixx]

Wouldn’t it be funny if Reader shows just a tiny amount of happiness to any one of the batfam, and the next thing you know they try their best to make Reader to do it again.

Example:

Dick:Makes a silly joke

Reader: Actually smiles and laughs at it

Dick: gloats about it to the fam

The BatFam: practically on all fours chasing after Reader to try and make them laugh

Don’t stress out with your writings (btw love your ‘again & again’ series❤️)

Take your time and don’t forget to drink water🫶🫶🫶

laughter is the best medicine

ft. yan! dick grayson, jason todd, and damian wayne

— masterlist !

more beneath the cut ! fluff ? with a mix of yandereness is my thing hehe. i love this ask sm <3 you guys are being fed well today !!!

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

ugh they're the definition of giving someone an inch and they'll be taking a mile. it would especially be annoying if it were dick on the receiving end of the line. but even if he'd be the one you'd take most precaution to, don't underestimate just how much your opinion holds the most value in the family. so they'll most definitely gloat about their achievement of making you smile or hell, even leaning against their shoulder willingly calls for a celebration.

trust me when i say that living in a stuffy manor already sucks, and they don't exactly like seeing you sulk and merely rot in your bed all day. so like any loving family would do, they'll try their damn best to at least see a quirk of your mouth or that faint glimmer in your that dick oh-so enchantingly talk about.

so it comes to them in the form of a surprise that one day, when your oldest brother accidentally trips over one of your expensive novelty ballpen, instead of nearly shouting at him for breaking one of your favorites, it was the "oomph!" sound his throat makes and his wide eyes when his ass directly landed on the floor that makes you crack into small giggles.

if it weren't for his enhanced hearing, dick would've crossed out your laughter as a hallucination, a product of imagination, something entirely impossible to produce, but no.

he had proven himself wrong.

once he turns back at you, he sees the crinkle of your eyes and your palm trying to cover your shit eating grin. the plump of your cheeks are so accentuated that he forgets the initial embarrassment he feels in the first place, replaced with awe at just how artfully captivating his sibling looks; sitting by

it's like a painting, he wishes it was. he wishes tim would be quick enough to capture the succession of your smiles in the live camera feed.

all because he couldn't believe it. couldn't believe that his baby bird is laughing. they're laughing and they look so mirthful and full of life when doing so.

yes, you're laughing at him, at his stupidity for being unable to detect a mere ballpen despite being trained to locate every known obstacle in a field.

but fuck, he was already raised at a circus to fulfill the role of an acrobat who entertains the crowd. what more could it be if that means he could play the role of a clown for you, his baby bird worth more than a thousand lives, whose laughter is equivalent to the immense euphoria that is filling his entire being?

give him an inch and he'll take an entire mile.

the next day, you'd be greeted with... a lot of peculiar instances within your family. all of which you would laugh at because it's not typical that your family displays mistakes, and you feel a bit better about yourself when their imperfections seem to seep out of their being— or maybe it's just your thoughts eating you up again, because is it just you or did jason, tim, and even damian, manage to at least trigger a reaction out of you?

tim would accidentally end up drinking orange juice right after brushing his teeth. his cringing expression, choked gargling and immense spitting is enough to guarantee a light chuckle from your seated form as you ate your cereal in peace, watching him as he tries to rid of the bitter taste on his tongue. although, bitter as it may, the sweetness and the aching of his tooth overpowers the regret he fills for gulping an entire bottle of orange juice down his throat.

he's so glad that he had set up multiple cameras and recorders at different angles prior to your time spent with him because he just couldn't stop watching your reaction in loop whilst he tried to continue his investigations within gotham's latest crime news. yet no matter how hard he attempts to control himself, his eyes couldn't stop looming over to your form, finding your reaction too incredibly cute to be ignored. yeah, he'll do his duties later. for now, he just needs to... screenshot every single frame of your expressions.

jason isn't much of a joker but when reading you one of your favorite stories, he had managed to mispronounce one of the words so badly that it ruined the narrative of the classical book he was voice acting for you. it was a stupid thing to laugh at, but for a guy like jason, who was an english nerd in his very prime, it would be hilarious— especially when his gothamite accent seeps into his vocabulary; which is very unbefitting for the voice of a character who was a princess that loves to wear frilly, pink dresses.

imagine a man, with a growl that vibrates through his skull, and muscles that bulge through his shirt, voices a princess of all people! his high pitched register for the character was already grating to your ears, but the sudden shift from an airy and girlish to deep and gruff with an added effect of a voice crack at the word "cake" was enough to let you burst out into laughs, your giggles echoing through the comfortable silence of the manor's library. for the first time in a while, you let jason wrap his arms around your shoulder, asking for your input about his tremendous acting skills.

jason never had many moments to cherish within the manor, preferring to stay over and outside of bruce's radar, but god does he love going through the batcave's live feed just to zoom in on your expressions, the grin on your face heavily reminds him of himself, back when he was the oblivious robin with no idea of what was coming to him. yet only now, he swears to protect your smile from never faltering.

damian takes his artistry skills seriously, constantly making a show of bragging to you whenever he has the opportunity to. but this time, he was incredibly pissed at drake for accidentally squeezing all the paint from the tube of oil paints he had stored by the drawers, and it was a shade closest to your skin tone, too; he meant to use that tube of paint for his next portrait of you. so like the petty child he is, damian sets on an hour long routine of drawing tim with monstrous features that screams the opposite of what he sports.

that means he had drawn multiple variants of tim with a hideous, actual bowl cut one. no seriously, his hair was a bowl and the strands that peeked out of it were spaghetti strands. in another drawing, his red robin outfit consists of plucked feathers and an elongated beak for its mask, what seems to be the pocket for the eyes now replaced with cat-like slits that makes the vigilantes expression looker idiotic and downright stupid. yet it felt therapeutic for damian to draw that his brother with what he felt was enough revenge to exact upon drake. that scum deserved a horrendously made portrait of him.

what he didn't expect was that you had stumbled upon his atelier, wanting to cure your boredom by painting a scenery when all of a sudden you had to drop all your equipment from your hands because... what the fuck was damian painting...? why is tim crawling across the floor in one of the portraits...? it takes a second or two for you to register the drawing's very detailed portrayal of a literal bowl cut, your laughter bursting out of the seams because no fucking way did damian actually draw something so hilarious and unserious. if you were anybody else, damian would've kicked your shins so violently you would've required a visit to the hospital. but because it's you... he chooses to sulk in the corner with puffed cheeks and burning ears as you approach the painting with said curiosity of a child and a laughter you can't stifle so easily.

at least it got you to stay in the same room as him for about an hour, with you giving your youngest brother more ideas to make the drawings even more unsettling than they already were, to which damian takes your tips to heart.

after you had eagerly (and shyly) showed the entire family you and damian's shared creation of a monstrosity, tim swears he'll never squeeze a tube of damian's paint anymore.

[sp4ceboo]

Maniac: OT8!Stray Kids x Reader

genre: a/b/o au, omegaverse, medieval au, ot8 x reader, pack dynamics, afab!reader, smut and angst and fluff

summary: you're your pack's only omega - when your alphas are taken from you, you refuse to rest until you're reunited with them

A/N: i loved writing this so come get your food i hope u guys like it <33

tw: 18+, a lot of smut (p in v, bath sex, knots and all that a/b/o shit, mentions of breeding ofc, 1 accidental pass out, oral - m&f recieving, face fucking, so much cum oh god, crying during sex, bit of mxm at points, somno but not much, lots of praise, one instance of finger sucking, manhandling, overstimulation, a spank, no mentioned protection because sorry it's medieval times, back scratching and biting, creampie, reader basically gets run a train on, a few 3some type things, dw there is also soft smut, guys please pee after sex), gore, blood, death, fighting, evil creepy dude, mention of past trauma, swearing, mistreatment of omegas, half assed editing, porn plot 50-50 split i reckon

wc: 12.98k

The moment the heavy wooden door of the smithy splinters and gives way, you bolt upright. Minho is already out of bed, the sheets still warm from where he was lying beside you, and you catch the glint of steel in his hand as he stands by the window, peering out at the street below; Seungmin is gone, his side of the mattress cold. Your heart stutters, and you stiffen at the all too familiar musky scent that permeates the air, rising up from between the rickety floorboards.

‘Goemul?’ You ask.

Minho nods grimly. ‘Who else?’

‘Fuck. He won’t leave me alone, will he?’

‘We won’t let him anywhere near you,’ he replies, voice low and full of anger.

You squeeze your eyes shut when Minho tucks an arm around your waist and presses you to him, pushing your nose into his neck; breathing in his scent - rain and sweet vanilla - you allow yourself a moment of comfort in his strong embrace before breaking away. A crash sounds below, and you grab your staff.

Jisung bursts in. You smell the fight on him before you see the bruising blooming across his face; there’s adrenaline spiking his scent and blood splattered across his front - not his, you note with relief. There’s a wild look in his eyes, the same look you saw the first time Goemul came for you.

‘He’s back, and with more troops,’ he gasps. ‘Chan says - ’

A chilling battle cry rings out, cutting him off.

Ice skitters down your spine. None of your pack are arrogant enough to have a signature war cry - there’s only one person that could be. Minho visibly bristles, his fingers flexing on the hilt of his sword before he shoulders open the bedroom door and you hear his footsteps pound down the stairs. You move to follow, but Jisung grabs your wrist.

‘Chan says you have to go. You need to run.’

You scoff. ‘Absolutely not. This is my pack.’

An edge enters Jisung’s voice. ‘And you’re our omega.’

You give him a look and he can see there’s no way he can convince you - you sprint down the stairs, him hot on your heels. Immediately, the smell of the fight overwhelms you as your feet hit the floor: at least twenty other alphas versus your eight, and a few betas fighting amongst the enemy too. Face twisted fiercely and teeth bared, Hyunjin barrels by, slashing at a stocky, snarling alpha with a rusted sword. It’s one of the ones Felix had scavenged for melting down, and you can see the wooden hilt is rotting.

Without hesitation, you raise your hand, and the attack runes painted there for an occasion just like this glow azure blue, so bright they’re almost white, and the alpha collapses, his heart ruptured in his chest. Panting, Hyunjin glances up and gives you a nod before diving back into battle, aiding Jeongin with the two betas tag teaming him.

You thrust yourself into the melee, fighting with both a sword you snatch off a fallen knight and your runes and staff. Energy begins to flow from you, leaking from your soul each time you use your runes - you’re careful to rotate your usage of the different ones inscribed on your skin, making sure you don’t tire a specific one, yet still you feel the itch of their overuse, and the knights pouring in aren’t thinning.

You catch sight of Goemul through the grappling bodies, and a flash of pure fear rivets you to the spot despite yourself. He’s locked in combat with Chan, but the spike in your scent catches both their attention, Goemul’s roar piercing through the sound of clashing blades. Chan hands seamlessly over to Changbin, and you feel his gaze pinpoint on you as he cuts through any attackers that try to stop him as he approaches.

You try to ignore his insistent stare, instead whacking one of the intruders over the head with your staff and forcefully bringing your knee up into his stomach. Chan is sweaty, his shoulders heaving from the fight, and guilt stings your chest - if it wasn’t for you, Goemul and his pack wouldn’t be here.

‘I thought I told Jisung to tell you to run.’

His voice is rough, raspy no doubt from shouting orders to the boys, and nearly drowned out from the din of the fight, yet you hear him clearly, attuned to the sound of your pack leader’s voice.

‘I wanted to stay and fight. It’s my fault, anyway.’

‘This is not your fault,’ Chan snaps. ‘We all knew Goemul would come after you.’

‘And yet you took me in anyway,’ you mutter.

He gives you a sharp look. ‘You need to run. We’re not going to last much longer. We’re tired, and we weren’t expecting it. We need you to break us out when they take us prisoner.’

You don’t think about the other option, the option that doesn’t include taking prisoners and includes death, instead breathing out an anxious: ‘What if I can’t?’

‘I know you can. I trust you, omega.’

Even in the midst of a fight, Chan knows what to say to put you at ease. He knows what is needed to look after his pack, and you know that he knows this, without doubt. You can see that your alphas are tiring, can see that this attack came as a surprise - Changbin is fighting with a hammer used for shaping swords, for fuck’s sake.

You swallow thickly. ‘I love you, Channie. Keep them safe, please. Keep yourself safe.’

Curtly, he nods. No promises. You turn on your heel and run.

You’ve been told all your life that omegas don’t fight, that omegas aren’t fierce. Omegas don’t retaliate, and they take whatever they’re given by their alphas without complaint.

Too bad that’s all been proven official bullshit.

The night is hostile. Clouds scuttle across the sky, polluting the moon’s pure silver light, and the soggy leaves beneath your feet muffle your footsteps - it’s cold, dark, damp, but you’re kept warm by the hot fury that you’ve been nursing since that night, knotted in a ball nestled right beside your heart.

Leaves are flattened beneath your boots. Wind weaves its way thinly through the tree trunks, singing lowly to itself. The stars are blotted from the sky, the moon a thin, faltering sliver. You walk onwards, staff sturdy against your palm.

Tonight is a perfect night for revenge.

Tonight you’re going to make sure Goemul leaves your pack alone for good, and tonight you’re going to make sure that you’re reunited with your alphas. It doesn’t matter that you’re an omega - you will fight. You can fight.

Your staff is testament to that. So are the attack runes painted in practised calligraphy on both your hands, the black ink winding up your forearms - you’ve added more since your alphas were taken from you, enough to extinguish the possibility of exhausting all of them. There are runes to boil a man’s brain in his skull, runes to explode his lungs even as he draws breath, runes made so you can protect your pack.

You are also half feral with the beginnings of your heat.

Blood rushes through your body, your heart pumping so hard in your chest you think it may punch through your ribs; your pupils are fully dilated, anticipating the fight. There’s a roaring in your ears, and intertwined in the thunderous, earsplitting noise of it is an insistent whisper: protect, protect, protect.

There’s no preventing this timing. Every second you spend without your pack, they could be hurting, bleeding, worse. All the preheat does is give you a vicious edge - the desperation of a cornered animal, the strength of one who has nothing else to lose.

You think this is what your ancestors must have felt, back when there were no cities, no castles made of rock, no swords or books, just the primal urge to hunt and fight and protect. You wonder if they smile down on you. You wonder if they slip silently across the narrow path before you, guiding you with ghostly hands, spurring you forward, closer to your pack, closer to the keep.

Closer to Goemul.

Once, he owned you. Owned you, because he does not believe omegas can belong - they can only be owned. You would spend nights curled on the stone floor, trying to rid yourself of his awful scent, nights where you would stare up at the pitiless rafters - even they smelt like him, wishing you were anywhere but where you were.

And then came Seungmin, carrying with him the scent of warm embers and freedom.

Somehow, here you are again, back on Goemul’s territory. You knew he wouldn’t let you go easily; you are proof to those he crushes beneath his boot heels that there is an escape.

There are two knights posted outside the keep’s wide wooden doors - thankfully ones that won’t recognise you. Faintly, you can hear the sounds of a feast within, yellow light spilling out into the night. Overhead, the clouds coalesce, and something in the air sharpens - the first patter of rain hits the tree canopy, muting your footsteps as you step forward.

‘Halt,’ one of the guards commands. ‘State your purpose.’

‘I’m just a blacksmith, sir,’ you reply meekly. ‘Looking to sell my wares to the lord and his men.’

The other guard grunts, sending a nod to the one who spoke, and swings open a hatch set in the big doors, the hinges groaning in protest. Ducking your head, you step into the great hall: it’s a huge, cavernous room made of rough, dark granite with flaming sconces fixed to the walls and violent tapestries hung between them; it’s where Goemul receives his guests.

Just the sight of the place makes your stomach turn, but it’s the heavy stench of musk that forces you to hide the shaking of your hands in the folds of your cloak. The musk in Goemul’s scent is heavy and suffocating, like a dirty, soaked blanket dumped discourteously over one’s head - nothing like Chan’s.

You glance around the hall. There are about three alphas to every omega in the room; the latter are interspersed throughout the former, either chained or collared - something that you remember all too well. Two lounge on the podium beneath Goemul’s chair, which is really more of a throne with its gaudy ornate carvings, their hands on him, their eyes brimming with fear.

You remember that, too.

And there, in the corner, you see them. Your nails dig into your palms. Your pack. Your pack. Crammed in a tiny cage, chained to a ring set in the wall, curled against each other. Nothing can hide the anger that rises in your scent when you see that Chan has pushed his way to the front, protecting his boys, bruises flowering across his face and neck and arms, dried blood smeared on his tattered shirt.

You know Goemul. You know that the cage is purpose built to hold prisoners used for entertainment.

Unmistakable now, fury soars on you, permeating the smell of the feast, permeating Goemul’s pungent musk.

Slowly, heads begin to turn. They don’t recognise you - you’ve masked your scent with runes scrawled down your collarbones and ringing your wrists, written over twice to hide the smell of your preheat. Still, they stare, with a sort of reluctant curiosity.

‘A blacksmith, my lord,’ one of the guards announces from behind you.

Goemul narrows his eyes, trying to see your face from the shadows of your hood. ‘What for?’

‘Looking to sell her wares, she said.’

He guffaws, and the sound of laughter ripples through those sitting at the banqueting table even though they don’t know what’s amusing him. Slowly, he gets to his feet, the two omegas scrambling to give him space - you see the glint of a chain pulling tight, fixed to the base of the podium. The guard beside you shuffles his feet nervously. Somewhere within the darkened cage, you swear you see someone stir.

‘What wares, guard?’

Gleefully, Goemul inhales like he’s feasting upon the guard’s fear as he realises you carry nothing, just the staff in your hand. You hear his muttered curse, the whoosh of air when he takes in a hurried breath, preparing to spill out apologies, not knowing how this has raised his lord’s wrath so intensely but knowing that he needs to beg and scrape if he wants to live.

‘Leave.’

Goemul’s voice hasn’t even finished ringing through the hall before the guard is tripping over himself to slam the hatch behind him, not waiting to see if his lord will withdraw his mercy. Slowly, Goemul settles back down on his throne, the omegas assuming their previous positions, their hands running over his legs as if to appease his anger.

You let your cowl fall back, revealing your features.

A murmur ripples through Goemul’s men.

He waits until they’re quiet. Around the room, the omegas watch you with wide eyes - you know they recognise you, you know they’re wondering why you would ever choose to return to this cursed place. Nearest to you, one jerks his head a little, as if to tell you to run.

‘I knew you’d come crawling back, my omega,’ he grins, smiling with too many teeth. ‘Although, I guess I do have something of yours, don’t I?’

‘I am not yours, Goemul,’ you hiss.

Lightning flares outside, followed by a strident clap of thunder.

‘Your pack is, though,’ he chuckles. ‘We had so much fun together, little omega. Channie and I are well acquainted now, since we had our nice pack leader to pack leader conversation.’

‘You keep his name out your mouth,’ you snap.

‘He bled a lot, though,’ Goemul muses, faking thoughtfulness. ‘I can’t seem to understand why.’

His dark eyes bore into yours, waiting to see your response. You can tell that he knows his goading is getting to you - he’s smiling that infernal smile, the one that makes you want to peel his skin from his bones and force it down his throat with a dagger.

Outside, thunder growls, low and furious.

You raise your staff. ‘You leave me no choice.’

Eyes locked on his, you bring it down. The oakwood hits the stone floor with a sound far louder than it should be, as if the very rock beneath your feet has split, rended apart down to the Earth’s very core. A muffled whoompf follows, and one by one, the torches in the sconces are snuffed out by an unseen force. Darkness descends.

All around, you sense scents spiking - they may be Goemul’s men, but they still feel fear; you doubt any of them have met someone who wields sorcery, let alone an omega. A hush falls over the hall, loaded with the anticipation before a fight.

‘A little bit of shadow won’t scare us, omega,’ Goemul calls.

You don’t reply. You’re busy stalking silently across the room, a key in your hand. It doesn’t matter that it’s not the one from the ring on Goemul’s belt - it’s covered all over with unlocking runes moulded right into the metal, something you forged yourself.

There’s a tinge of wild anger in Goemul’s voice when he speaks again. ‘Omega?’

When you reach through the bars of the cage, a warm, calloused hand is already waiting. Now that you’re close, you can smell their individual scents, the hurt and the exhaustion on them. Your eyes have adjusted to the gloom just enough that you can see Felix curled against Changbin, and although they’re both smiling proudly at you, eyes fierce, you can see the pain in their faces too. It sets bitter anger roiling within you, as deep and wrathful as the storm outside.

You know Goemul is listening. You hope he is, as the sound of a key in a lock and the clatter of chains rings out through the room. You hope he feels the control slipping through his desperate, clawing fingers as nervous whispers riffle through the great hall, as alphas reach for their swords, disbelieving that Goemul failed to make a single, lone omega submit to him.

And then, low and menacing and crystal clear, Chan growls.

You feel everyone in the hall freeze at the sound. There are no words to the deep rumble vibrating in his chest, just the white hot, primal fury of a leader whose pack has been hurt. Simply the tone of it roots half the men in the hall to the spot, the hairs on the backs of their necks rising, their palms slick with sweat as they stare wide eyed into the darkness.

‘Goemul,’ Chan snarls, stepping from the cage. ‘I swear I will not rest until you are dead.’

The last part comes out as a roar, and with it, chaos descends.

Before the echo of Chan’s voice has even died down, air whooshes past you - what must be Changbin and Minho shooting out of the cage. A strangled cry sounds as they finish off the closest two alphas, wrenching their swords from their belts to fight with. Someone’s hand brushes your waist as the rest of your pack members swiftly exit the cage: Felix, by the gentle scent of violets that washes over you, and yet on it you can almost taste the yearning to fight.

Your alphas are not vengeful. Protective, however, is a different story, and as each of their unique scents spread out across the room, meeting Goemul’s alphas that slash out blindly with their swords blow for blow, you know each of them are thinking of what all of you have gone through under Goemul’s orders.

Above it all, Goemul’s battle cry rings out, but you don’t flinch, don’t bat an eyelash - you’re ready for him this time, fresh runes all over your skin. Your alphas may be injured, but they’ve been cooped up in a too small cage for almost a week and they’re sure as hell fucking angry.

A feverish, clammy hand grabs your wrist. Hot air laced with the stink of ale puffs against your cheek. ‘Witch.’

You take a step forward, stabbing out with the butt of your staff and catching your attacker in the stomach. A throng of them have formed around you, angry and growling and still reeling that one omega has caused this much havoc, their movements uncoordinated and laced with more fear than any of them would ever admit.

Under the low illumination of the lightning strikes, you can just about see they’ve made a ring around you. Maybe they think that their numbers will prevail over your sorcery and they’ve got a quick kill, because some of them are smiling as if the fight’s already over. You almost feel sorry for them.

Almost.

As you strike out with your staff, you think of Chan, welcoming you into his pack, back when all you could do around alphas was flinch - patient, soft spoken Channie, bloodied by Goemul and his men from shielding the boys with his body, half conscious from the violence.

You think of Minho as you break a man’s nose, Minho who said little to begin with but would always be silently checking on you, making sure you were comfortable, leaving you an extra blanket in winter before he eventually slept by your side, his body warm against yours, currently with a split lip and cracked ribs.

You knock a man’s sword from his hand, catching it in your own, and think of Changbin, always there to make you smile and feel safe with his big arms and tight hugs, always acting tough but in truth all soft and gooey on the inside, his knuckles now bloodied and face twisted in pain.

While you cut down another alpha that runs at you, you think of Hyunjin, who calls you his muse, who crafts the most beautiful ornate daggers back at the smithy, and who gave you his favourite one with a sweet kiss on your forehead and a promise to never leave you, painted with bruises that spread wide over his back.

Your stolen blade clashes against an attacker’s as you think of Jisung, your Jisung who never fails to make you laugh, never fails to wrap his arms around you from behind when you need it most, beaten until he blacked out, his eyes almost swollen shut from the bruising.

The runes painted on your palms glow bright while you think of Felix, who baked you sweet treats and wiped your tears every day that they fell, who healed your soul with his sunshine smile, nose bloody and near broken from repeated blows.

Fatigue makes your arm tremble as you swing your sword, but you fight on, thinking of Seungmin, who was the first to find you, the first to plant the seed of hope, always the one who dispels your doubts with the sureness of his words, his head now bowed and teeth gritted to fight to keep down the cry that builds within him from the pain.

Your blade gets stuck between an alpha’s ribs, so you whirl your staff in your hands and think of Jeongin, sweet, sweet Jeongin who would hold your hand after the nightmares, whispering reassurances and holding you until you could fall asleep again, his big hands carding through your hair, bloodied and beaten for nothing but sport.

You fight, and as you do, you think of your alphas. You let the insistent whisper from before rise to become a roar, rise to drown out the sounds of the battle: protect, protect, protect. It burns like liquor as it rushes through your veins, and you find it strengthens you, even as the energy spills from you through the usage of your runes; it guides your blade, guides your staff, ensuring your strikes hit home.

And then, all of a sudden, no one’s attacking you any more.

No one is running at you with swords, derisive words on their lips, no one is throwing punches at you or trying to sweep your legs out from under you so they can kick you when you’re down. You sway a little, half expecting someone to appear out of nowhere, but all the remaining alphas subservient to Goemul are fighting elsewhere or have fled - they weren’t prepared, instead lulled into a false sense of safety within their own keep. There’s a ring of bodies slumped on the floor around you.

Something wrenches in your gut, twisting. A warning: your heat will be upon you soon - the longest you have left is a few hours. Sweat suddenly pricks at your body. You need to finish this, and quickly.

Chan blurs by, exchanging hurled punches and vicious kicks with Goemul. You’re leaning against your staff for support, catching your breath, but as three alphas dive into the melee, clawing at Chan’s back and hauling him off Goemul, and as you spot the two omegas, still chained to the podium and cowering under a half collapsed table, unable to escape, you find you aren’t really that tired after all.

You’re on Goemul within seconds.

He grins. ‘Hello again, my little omega - ’

You punch him across the face. Hard. His head snaps to the side, and you grab his shirt, slamming him once, twice against the hard, unforgiving floor of his great hall, savage red fog hazing your vision, not letting up even when you feel the crunch of his nose beneath your knuckles.

‘You’re stupid, Goemul,’ - you spit the name he’s created for himself - ‘for underestimating omegas. You think you’re destined to lord over us all, when all you are is a fucking scared little pup clinging to control and power you don’t deserve.’

Despite it all, he laughs, and blood glistens on his teeth. ‘You’re driving yourself crazy, little omega. I can smell the heat on you - you can’t kill me if your body needs my knot. All you need to do is to ask for it, sweet thing, and I’ll give it to you.’

Your grip on him falters, and he flips you, pinning you to the floor beneath him. Struggling against his grip, you thrash, your careful runes long forgotten, crimson rolling in like mist over the hills, and something wide and primal yawns open within you - your lips pull back, and you bare your teeth at him, pupils dilating as you lurch your head forward, snapping at his throat.

Goemul dodges just in time, holding you at arms length even as you claw at his face and neck. All you can hear is protect, protect, protect and the hidden voice beneath it saying kill him and end it, make him pay, do it for the pack, for your alphas.

His eyes widen. ‘You’re a maniac.’

You look up, over his shoulder, past him, your laugh chilling. ‘Yes.’

Impossibly, his eyes open further, bulging, and a low, strained gurgle sounds from deep in his throat. Trembling, one of his hands comes up to his chest, and he looks down, surprise and fear contorting his features as his finger gets sliced open on the tip of the blade protruding from between his collarbones.

Goemul’s eyes roll back, and his body slumps over you, deadweight. Dazed, you gaze up at Jeongin, admiring his handsome features, albeit splattered with gore from the fight and covered with a look of disgust as he places a foot on Goemul’s back and wrenches his sword out. It makes a wet, sucking sound as it goes, and your alpha dumps the sword on the floor in favour of heaving the cooling body off you and pulling you into his arms.

Mint and lavender, clean and fresh and soothing, rush at your senses as you take a deep breath in. You’re clinging onto Jeongin so hard that it must be hurting him, but he doesn’t seem to mind, holding you just as tightly to him, burying his face in your neck, his nose right against your scent gland as he just inhales.

Eventually, you jostle him, your senses coming back to you. You need to grab your staff; you can still fight, even though the ink of more than half of the writing on your hands and wrists has flaked off, the exhausted runes leaving light burns in their wake.

‘Where’s my staff?’ You mumble, wriggling in his grip. ‘I can still - ’

A hand smooths over your hair, someone coming up behind Jeongin so they can look you in the eyes from where you’re peeking over his shoulder, searching for the familiar oakwood. You blink. It’s Minho, his eyes soft, hair a mess.

‘It’s over, jagiya,’ he murmurs. ‘You don’t have to fight any more. We’re safe now.’

Eventually, his words echo in your head, beginning to register - over, safe now - and you go limp in Jeongin’s arms, burying your face in his shoulder and letting out a damp, shaky breath, hands fisting in his shirt. Your impending heat burns at your core, pulling you this way and that, but the nearness of your alphas grounds you, keeps you tethered to them.

You have just the presence to reach out to Minho, fingers brushing over his side as the healing runes written around the tops of your forearms flare to life, their glow different from the ones intended for attack - they’re the orangey pink of a rising dawn, like tiny suns pulsating beneath your skin. They begin to burn, uncomfortably hot as you heal Minho’s cracked ribs, then Felix’s nose and Han’s swollen black eyes, followed by all the injuries of your alphas that you can with the energy you have spare.

You’re panting by the end of it, drained. You’ve still neglected some of the less serious flesh wounds, but the well inside of you that was full to the brim with potency when you first entered the keep has run dry. If it weren’t for your heat fast approaching, you might have more energy, but you don’t, so that’s what you’re forced to settle with as you close your eyes and try to stop yourself from wriggling too much in Jeongin’s grip.

‘I’ll take her,’ someone says, and you’re being transferred into another’s arms.

Clean linen and cinnamon, crisp and familiar, crashes over you, and you nestle into Jisung’s arms, trying to absorb his body  heat as he kisses your face - the urge to nest is beginning to grow stronger, now that the adrenaline from the fight is leaving your system, and he’s so warm.

Somewhere far away, you can hear Felix’s low, comforting voice as he talks to Goemul’s omegas, and Chan’s too, instructing them and pointing them towards the east wing of the keep - you know at some point, they’ll want to talk to you, but for now you rest your chin on Jisung’s shoulder, closing your eyes and leaning your weight against him. Some of them remain in the hall, putting the bodies in neat piles up against the wall to be buried later or tending to anyone with injuries.

‘We’re going to find somewhere for you to nest now, baby,’ Jisung says into your hair. ‘Hyunjinnie is going to take you while we look.’

Another set of arms wraps around you, lean and wiry and smelling like roses and grapefruit but mainly roses, achingly close, strong enough to make you want to cry. He nuzzles at your neck, his long hair tickling your face and collarbones. Part of you is singing, happy only now that you’re surrounded by your alphas, happy that -

Hyunjin’s tongue flicks over your scent gland.

You know he doesn’t mean to set off anything - he does it a lot, just to calm you or show affection, but you’re teetering on the brink, hanging in the balance, and this is what tips you over. Just like that, your first wave of slick comes, and all of a sudden there’s an insistent ache between your legs. You stiffen in his arms.

‘Alpha,’ you whine, voice small.

Around you, you hear rather than see the boys pause. No doubt their instincts are kicking in, already perked up at the heady spike in your scent, telling them to look after their omega and knot and  breed and give you pups. There are the other omegas in the room, too, but even they freeze, affected by the possessive twang rolling off each of your alpha’s scents.

Hyunjin shifts just a little against you, and you feel his hardening cock heavy against your hip. A gasp escapes you, and it’s like the sound of it jolts your alphas back up to the present, because they’re moving again, hurrying, in a slight frenzy as they continue to help move the bodies and organise the rest of the omegas.

The fog of your heat is descending, and the rational part of you hates this timing - you need to look after your alphas, tend to their wounds that you couldn’t heal, but the animal part of you clamours over it, making you squirm uncomfortably, pushing Hyunjin away as you spin around, searching for a place to nest. You breath comes out in gasps: you can’t have your heat without a nest, but you don’t know if there are rooms free, if -

A firm hand sweeps up your back, landing on the nape of your neck and holding it, not quite scruffing you but breaking through your rising panic, making you listen. The scent of cocoa and gentle musk overcomes you, and when you look up at Chan, his dark, authority filled eyes pinning you down, another round of slick gushes out of you, and he smiles a little at your response to him.

‘Pack leader,’ you yip, ducking your head. ‘L - leader, alpha - ’

‘You’re going to be okay,’ Chan soothes. ‘Your alphas are here, okay? We’re going to get you to the bed Changbin and Jisung have found for you so you can nest. Just hang in there, omega.’

‘What about the other omegas?’ You ask, struggling to meet his eyes.

‘They’re in the other wing,’ he replies, then preempts your next words. ‘We’ll find new packs for them; we’re not going to replace you, sweetheart. Just let your alphas take care of you, yeah?’

Gently, he takes your hand in his and rubs his thumb along the scent gland at your wrist. A quiet, needy noise tears itself from your throat, and suddenly your legs are buckling - Chan catches you and scoops you up, one hand cradling the back of your head as he carries you through the passages leading from the hall and into the guest wing.

You’re lowered onto the softest mattress you’ve ever felt. It’s funny how all your time trapped in this keep, you never slept on anything but the cold stone floor - but now, your alphas are here, either still in the great hall, here with you or in what you understand is the bathroom next door, and Goemul’s dead, and you’re safe.

Chan kisses your crown and leaves you be for now as you hurriedly arrange the blankets. The bed is huge, wider than you are tall, yet you still crave your nest at home, items of clothing hoarded from your alphas tucked neatly amongst the bedding you’d padded it with - the sheets here are clean, but devoid of smell. It doesn’t compare.

You sit back on your heels. ‘The nest, it’s nowhere near good enough.’

Seungmin appears by your side, rubbing his thumb over the scent gland in your neck, his lips in your hair. ‘No, omega, it’s perfect. You’re perfect.’

The praise relaxes you, calms you, and you melt into his touch, leaning against him and pushing your face into his side, resting your cheek on his bare skin - like the others, he’d surrendered his shirt for your nest without complaint. His touch is feather light as he strokes your hair, and your eyelids droop a little.

Seungmin pecks your lips. ‘You need to sleep now, before your heat fully hits. We’ll all be here when you wake up.’

He watches you lay down, perching on the mattress so you have an alpha close to you while you fall asleep. Yawning, you curl up close to him. This will be the last proper rest you get until the end of your heat.

You close your eyes, the scent of warm embers washing over you.

You wake up sweating.

The ache between your legs has spread upwards and outwards, and you curl into a ball from the pain of it, eyes blurry as you blindly reach your hands out, searching for an alpha. You can hear yourself babbling, begging for a knot, begging to be filled up, because they’re all right there, curled up on the mattress, surrounding you, but they’re all asleep, all eight of them leaving you here in heat on your own, without a knot, and you can’t think beyond the need; you’re going to implode if someone doesn’t -

Sure hands unfurl you, flipping you so you’re spread flat on the mattress. The weight of one of your alphas traps you in place, and you moan, back arching when a hot tongue slides along the column of your throat, halting at your scent gland and sucking the sensitive skin there.

Sweet vanilla rolls over your senses. His teeth bite and suck at your collarbone, and you groan, head all jumbled with need, your body still locked up from the cramps as you fumble with his boxers, urgency rendering you clumsy.

Mercifully, one of your alphas has stripped you down to your underwear while you were sleeping, and you find you don’t even have the time to take them off, instead hooking your leg around Minho’s hip and grinding your throbbing core down on his hardening cock. Lightning pulses through your cunt at the way his lids half close in pleasure, filling you with the need to please your alpha, to be of use to him.

He tears your underwear off with a flick of his wrist. Your pussy is only getting wetter.

Dipping his head, Minho claims your lips, and the brush of his tongue against yours makes your head spin faster than it already is, your hands coming up to tangle with his hair as his hips roll to meet yours.

‘F - fuck,’ you choke out, jolting when Minho sinks two fingers inside you and scissors them.

His lips travel lower to trace down your sternum. ‘Gotta stretch you out for the boys, jagiya.’

You find yourself squirming a little; his fingers are curling, pumping in and out of you at exactly the pace you normally like, but your body is working itself up to the wild throes at the peak of your heat and you need more, so much more. You tell him so, and he chuckles, kissing you again like it’s going to distract you from the way he’s lining himself up at the entrance of your cunt.

Barely the tip of him is in before you’re clenching hard, painfully hard, scrabbling at the bedsheets and crying his name so loud it’s a wonder the boys don’t stir. He licks and sucks at your scent gland, relaxing you until your muscles ease up and he can move - despite all your slick, you still feel the burn of his cock. He’s stretching you out, just like he said he would.

Agonisingly, he pulls out, just to slam back in again, balls deep, punching the air out of your lungs. Minho fucks you roughly, like you need at the start of your heat, his cock reaching so deep inside you you think he might be in your guts - he’s not fast, just so intense that tears are forming on your lash line and you’re panting, fighting for breath.

Then, he’s forcing your legs up onto his shoulders, and the new angle makes you wail, because he’s destroying your cunt in a way that has your thighs shaking and your chest heaving, pleas for more spilling out of you uncontrollably.

Minho has a way of wringing pleasure from you, fucking you so good that you can’t do anything but repeat his name over and over; you feel yourself suspended on the edge, fire licking up your sides, so close, so close, so close -

Mid-thrust, he pauses.

‘Alpha,’ you scream, voice breaking pitifully. ‘Alpha, please - ’

There’s something half sadistic in his eyes when he looks down at you, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips, teasing as he enjoys the way you struggle, bucking against him desperately, begging like it’s the only thing you know how to do.

‘Sungie’s woken up from all your noise, omega,’ Minho remarks impassively. ‘Maybe you should give him a hand.’

No sooner has he finished speaking than an achingly hard cock makes its way into your palm, and you cast your teary eyes upward, only half there as you witness Jisung’s head fall back in pleasure when you begin to jerk him, because thank all that is good, Minho’s moving again, tearing you apart and putting you back together with those powerful thrusts of his hips.

He’s hitting that spot inside you, and each time he does, paralysing bolts of pleasure shoot down your spine. Your orgasm crushes you with its magnitude, whiting out your vision, and through it, you blindly beg for his knot, beg him to fill you, beg him to stuff you with load after load.

‘That’s right, omega,’ he grits out. ‘Let it all out for me.’

Tears finally spill over, trickling down your face, the pleasure leaving you rapt, brows drawn together and mouth hanging open, and still he fucks into you; you can feel the slight burn as his knot begins to engorge, and you know he’s so close, so almost filling you up.

Your thoughts grow indistinct the moment Minho spills hot inside you, his knot popping into place and locking you together. Jisung comes not a moment later, letting go with a short cry all over your chest, and if you were not full and happy with Minho’s knot, you’d be fretting about the waste. Instead, you close your eyes and murmur a pleased ‘alpha’, fingers brushing lightly over a bandage on Minho’s arm as the two of them begin to lick the come off you.

You must drift off, because when you resurface, Jisung, Minho and his knot are gone, most likely to the bathroom, and instead you can feel Seungmin’s long fingers working lazily between your legs, just enough to take the edge off the bite of your cramps. He’s got your back propped up against his chest, and you wiggle, bucking your hips up into his touch, inhaling the smell of warm embers.

‘What do you think you’re doing, omega?’

You freeze at the dominance in his tone. Remaining silent, you gaze up at him, wide eyed and head full of cotton as he pins you beneath him, the ravenous look on his face making your neck and cheeks flush. You can feel his cock against your thigh, but he doesn’t allow you to move, doesn’t move himself, just stares down at you, waiting.

Slowly, you tilt your head back, exposing the vulnerable expanse of your throat - a display of utter submission. A low whine escapes you when his breath caresses your skin, his nose brushing against your jugular as he inhales your scent.

‘Good omega,’ Seungmin murmurs. ‘Our omega.’

‘Yours,’ you echo, and this time, he lets you buck against him.

Another hot rush of slick leaves you at the friction of his clothed cock against you, and you gasp his name, rubbing your cheek all over his neck and chest, trying to cover him in your scent. He allows it, letting you press yourself against him, desperation soaking your scent, your hands roaming his body urgently, trying to tell him that you need his knot because all your mouth can seem to do right now is say ‘alpha’, again and again and again.

In one smooth sweep, Seungmin gathers your wrists above your head and pins them there. A sound leaves you, so eager and pathetic that your cheeks flush and you struggle half heartedly against him, but he’s yanking off his boxers and running his fingers through your folds to transfer your arousal and make sure his dick will be wet enough. If you stay still, you think you might die.

Yet another round of slick is pouring from you. He chuckles, seeing your cunt clench as he spits in his hand and wraps his fingers around his cock - you know he’s doing it to taunt you. Whoever goes first always makes sure you’re prepped.

‘Ready for my knot, omega?’ Seungmin coos. ‘Think you can take it?’

‘Yes,’ you whine. ‘Yes, alpha, yes, give it to me, I can, I can - ’

Your mouth snaps shut when he thrusts into you, your eyes widening and back arching as thrill after thrill races up your spine, making your cunt bear down on him, squeezing him tight and  greedily sucking him in further. The moment he starts moving, you know he’s not going to go easy on you.

Seungmin is going to make you earn it.

He releases your hands, letting you grab onto him as he fucks into you, fast, unrelenting. Almost sly, his fingers drag down your stomach so he can rub them over your clit in tight circles - your pussy flutters in response, clamping down on him. A muttered curse escapes him; you can feel every muscle of his back taut under your grip, the vein in his neck beginning to strain, yet all he does is go harder.

Something within you buckles. Not a second later, you come, clenching around his cock, squeezing him so tight he’s forced to grind into you further, your cunt refusing to let him pull out. You expect him to ease up, give you a moment to rest but he continues the moment he can, unforgiving.

Overstimulation sears at you, cutting through the cloudiness fogging your brain, and you yawp, scrabbling at Seungmin’s back, thighs jumping with every drag of his cock against your walls as you rake your nails against his skin in a way that must be hurting his battered, not quite healed body, but he doesn’t shake you off, doesn’t seem to mind.

‘Stop thrashing if you want your alpha’s knot,’ he snarls.

‘W - want it,’ you babble, trying to stay still for him. ‘Need it so bad, alpha.’

‘Then take it.’

He punctuates his words with deep rolls of his hips, and this time you can’t not move, because the pads of his fingers are back on your clit, torturous, creating friction so impossibly blissful that it hurts, and he’s hammering his dick into you, so quick that you can’t form words any more, and then - and then -

Once again, you come, and he slams his knot inside you.

Your back bows, your fingers twisting into the sheets until someone grabs your hand and squeezes it as tightly you are squeezing theirs. It’s not Seungmin’s, you realise - his are too busy propping him up, holding him above you. Turning your head to the side, you smile: it’s Minho, half asleep with his eyes almost closed and a silly little grin on his face.

Huffing, his breath ruffling your hair, Seungmin pokes at your face, bringing your attention back to him. You tip your head up and fit your lips to his, a warm, happy buzz engulfing you now that you’re full, and he lowers himself on top of you so you can lie there together, joined by his knot nestled inside your sated cunt as sleep tugs you both under.

You wake up to cacao and musk, lips closed over your scent gland, gently sucking. Whatever Seungmin’s knot and the orgasms he plucked from you did to appease your heat have worn off, and fast, because you’re sweating all over, hips moving against the firmness below you and you don’t know where you are, just that there are hands on your body and a mouth on your neck keeping back the flames.

‘Leader,’ you mewl, half crazy on his scent. ‘Alpha, need your knot,’

‘I’ve got you,’ Chan croons. ‘Alpha’s got you.’

It begins to dawn on you that you’re straddling his lap, grinding down frantically on his thigh, his hands cool where they coast over your burning skin, smoothing circles over your back. Taking your chin in his fingers, he tilts your face up until you’re looking at him. The moment you meet his eyes, you still, hips hovering over his.

‘You going to behave for me, omega?’

You nod so hard it hurts your neck. ‘Yes, alpha, so good, so good for you. Promise.’

‘Sweet girl,’ he coos. ‘My omega.’

Leaving trails of goosebumps behind, Chan’s hands slide down your torso, down to caress the curves of your hips, down to right where you need him. There’s a moment where he just holds your cunt, fingers pressing between your folds until you break and rock against the heel of his palm, chasing away the building pressure between your legs in favour of momentary relief, wobbly voiced pleas rushing from you as your slick soaks him to the wrist.

Nosing at your throat, he laves his tongue over your scent gland, one hand coming round to grip your ass as he positions you closer to him. When he looks up at you, you see the same haze that blankets your mind clouding his eyes - you must be nearing the peak of your heat for your scent to affect him so. He’s barely holding himself back.

‘Okay?’ He verifies. ‘Can take it?’

‘Y - yes, yes,’ you reply, grinding your hips down despite his steady grip on you, searching for his cock.

That’s all it takes for him to lurch upwards, sheathing himself in your heat like it was made for him. The remainder of the sentence on your tongue dissolves into a keening moan, your lips falling open, eyes unfocused and rolled back; he gives you barely a second to adjust to his thickness before he’s pounding into you, holding you in place above him with his nails digging into the flesh of your ass.

You grab at his broad shoulders, needing something to anchor you with the way he’s jerking your whole body up and down with every punishing thrust. Chan’s fucking up into you like he wants you to forget your own name, like he wants you to forget everything but the surge of his cock through your spasming walls; he’s got you dumb, mouth agape, the sounds that leave you wordless but pleading.

It’s as if your senses have narrowed to the giddying scent of your alpha and the promise of his knot in the snap of his hips against yours - you can’t think of anything else.

Dimly, you realise he’s speaking between the sloppy kisses he adorns your neck and chest with, groaning and mumbling against your skin as his teeth nip at your scent gland, stimulating you in a way that brings century old instincts to the surface - it has you shuddering, nails buried into the meat of his biceps as you twist your head back to bare your throat to your alpha.

‘Good omega,’ he’s gasping, words slurred, reaching so deep inside you all you can do is take it. ‘Made for me, omega - fuck, fuck, squeezing me so well - gonna give you my knot, sweetheart, give you my pups, gotta breed you, gonna - ’

Chan moans so loud it’s almost a howl, slamming you down on his cock to the hilt one last time, fingers furiously working your clit. The hot spill of his seed yanks you unceremoniously over the edge, and you feel your pussy constrict around his knot - he hisses at the feel of it, his chest, mottled with bruises, heaving as he comes down from the high, eyes beginning to focus on you.

Fuck, he looks good, all sweaty and panting and still a bit dazed, his curls ruffled and a dumb little blissed out smile plastered on his face. Tugging you close, he lets his forehead fall against your collarbones, pushing his face between your tits - you giggle as he sighs happily into their plushness, tucking your arms around him and holding him close, sated and so incredibly, wonderfully full.

‘So good for me, sweetheart,’ he mumbles, voice muffled against your skin.

You preen at his words, and his hands move up from where they were splayed out on your back to stroke your hair, smoothing it down and untangling some of the knots with his fingers. Curling up as much as you can in this position, you lean your head on Chan’s shoulder, basking in the reassuring presence of your alpha.

Something warm presses against your leg, and you look down to see Jeongin, balled up facing Seungmin with his back pushed up against the length of your thigh, his angular face softened in sleep. Grinning, you brush a hand over his cheek, and he stirs, humming drowsily before settling again.

A hand rubs at the small of your back, and you turn to see that Felix has woken up. Despite the fact that his blonde hair is mussed and he’s squinting against the light of the torches in the sconces on the walls, he’s smiling sweetly at you, gaze bright and soft.

‘Felix, please could you grab that for me?’ Chan’s gesturing to a small platter on the bedside table.

Clambering over a slumbering Minho and Jisung and almost tripping up on Changbin’s outstretched leg, he retrieves it and hands it to Chan, who supports you with a hand on your waist so you can sit back and tuck into the slices of bread and cheese on the plate. You hadn’t realised how hungry you were until now - your stomach rumbles at just the smell of the food.

Through a mouthful, you beam. ‘Thanks, Lix.’

He leans over Changbin to kiss you sweetly, filling your nose with the scent of violets and sunshine. ‘Once Chan’s knot goes down I’ll take you to the bath, okay?’

‘Yes, please,’ you reply. ‘I’m all sticky.’

‘My bad,’ Chan chuckles, rubbing his hands up and down your sides and making your brain all fuzzy.

By the time you’ve finished the food, Chan’s knot has come down enough to slip out of you - both of you groan when he pulls out, his come rolling down your thighs. You glance over at Felix and see him watching, and when you look down you can see he’s semi hard and sending you a sheepish grin.

A great yawn splits your face in half, and you stretch your cramped legs as you shuffle awkwardly off the bed, pausing to give Chan a kiss before he scoots down and tugs the blanket over him, nuzzling close to Jeongin. Lifting you up, Felix carries you to the bathroom - Hyunjin looks up from where he’s perched on a rickety wooden stool in the corner, holding something delicately in his hands and smirking.

‘That cavewoman omega in you really likes it when Chan fucks you like that, huh?’

You roll your eyes. ‘Go on and pretend you weren’t hard.’

‘Why are you holed up in here, anyway?’ Felix asks as he helps you into the wooden tub.

‘Changbin was rolling around in his sleep,’ he shrugs. ‘Didn’t want to stab him.’

Proudly, Hyunjin holds up the piece of wood he’s been whittling - it’s a lovely piece of limewood, light and creamy in colour, and it must be a maquette for a sword hilt he’s planning on making, because it’s carved with whorls and flowing arches, as if the wood itself is malleable clay in his skilled hands.

‘I like it,’ Felix says as he helps soap your back. ‘It’s pretty.’

Hyunjin gives him a look. ‘Of course.’

You chuckle. ‘Yeah, Felix, when did he ever make something that wasn’t pretty?’

‘Hey, what about that time when - ’

‘No, it was pretty, you just - ’

Closing your eyes, you listen to the two of them bicker playfully, relishing the warmth of the water and the way it eases your sore muscles - you want to enjoy the momentary lucidity. You’re still somewhere in the highest intensity of your heat, and soon your body is going to want a knot again, even after having Chan’s so recently.

Right on queue, as if just thinking about it sets it off, your scent spikes, and you feel a wave of slick spill from you - it goes straight into the water, but both Hyunjin and Felix fall silent anyway, sensing your need from a mile away.

There’s a moment of silence, and then Hyunjin drags his stool closer to the tub.

Without further delay, Felix shucks off his boxers and climbs in. The water swills but doesn’t spill over, and he takes your chin and kisses you softly, careful not to lean too much of his weight on you; the moment he pulls back, Hyunjin is there, swiping his thumb over your bottom lip before pushing it into your mouth, and you moan around him when you feel the nudge of Felix’s cock head at your entrance.

All three of you groan when he slides in, and you turn your head to the side, unsurprised to see Hyunjin’s slender fingers curling around his cock, his carving abandoned to the side - your eyes glide upwards, locking on his as you suck on his thumb, still resting against your lips, and he visibly picks up his pace, face twisting in pleasure.

Hiding his face into your damp neck, Felix groans, low and deep, thrusting his hips forward until they kiss yours, so close that his pubic bone grinds over your clit. He fucks into you slowly and tenderly, and as he does, Hyunjin hooks his thumb under your chin and crams three of his fingers into your mouth up to the knuckle, grunting when your tongue swirls over them.

You’re still sensitive from Chan, maybe even from the two orgasms Seungmin coaxed from you, and the way Felix’s cock drags through you is driving you insane - almost as much as the praise they’re both showering upon you and the pump of Hyunjin’s fingers in and out of your mouth. Water is sloshing over the sides of the tub with each movement, and it’s as if you’re floating aimlessly, muscles lax and surrounded all over by this warmth.

Hyunjin comes first.

It’s Felix that sets him off: kissing you over the fingers buried in your mouth, his tongue sliding over them before he licks at your lower lip, sucking it into his mouth, and suddenly Hyunjin’s coming with a gasp, wrenching Felix off your front by his shoulder so he can spill over the part of your chest that’s above the water.

That’s what makes you come.

The sight of Hyunjin bent double over you and Felix, jerking himself until he’s spent and then some to overstimulate himself, the hand that had been in your mouth gripping the side of the tub so hard his knuckles run white - it’s too much. Your pussy convulses around Felix, and only then do you find your words, gasping that you need a knot, begging for his come.

It’s all too easy for him to give you what you want - more water splashes out of the tub and straight onto the bathroom floor as he seats his knot inside you, plugging his seed in so not a drop is wasted. He flops over you, panting.

‘I didn’t expect it to come back so fast,’ you remark as the three of you catch your breath.

‘So much for the bath,’ Felix laughs. ‘Maybe we should draw another one.’

The next time you open your eyes, it hits you full force. The ache in your core is so intense that all you can do is flail, thrashing and writhing and crying, all tangled up in the blankets which are soaked with your sweat and twisted around your legs, all tangled up in the consuming flames of your heat. There are warm bodies all around you; you can hear their breathing, but none of them are responding, and fuck it hurts -

This can’t be happening again -

You squeak in alarm as someone manhandles you onto your front so quickly that your head spins, holding your arms down so you can barely move - you’re grinding desperately down on the mattress, and you can feel the sheets beneath you grow wet with your slick.

‘Stay still, omega,’ a voice growls. ‘You’re going to push someone off the bed if you don’t.’

‘Alpha?’ You whimper, rubbing your thighs together. ‘It’s not enough, please - ’

‘Binnie’s here,’ he soothes, tone gentler now. ‘Binnie’s going to take care of you, okay? Hands and knees for me, omega.’

Tears of relief trickle down your face and seep into the cloth beneath you - Jeongin’s shirt. You scramble to obey your alpha’s command, only halting when Changbin pulls you in for a quick kiss that leaves you dizzy, as if he sucked the air from your lungs and replaced it with pure, unadulterated need. Squeezing your ass, he fucking bullies you into position, manoeuvring you until you’re face down, ass up.

You fist the sheets in your hands, trying to stay still but he’s taking his damn time. Arching your back, you push back on him, feverish, reduced to the urges of your idiot omega brain that you can’t ignore for the life of you. Your thighs are trembling as he lines himself up, your breath coming out in harsh pants.

With a harsh stab of his hips, he ploughs into you.

You wait for him to move, wait for him to fucking destroy you, but he doesn’t; he just holds himself there, infuriating, playing with you, and you’re wailing and trying to push back onto him more but he’s got you in his iron grip and then he’s cracking a hand down on your ass and you howl and finally -

Finally he’s moving.

Changbin is railing into you, unrelenting. You’re clenching so hard around him, desperate for his knot that your vision keeps blanking out, your voice breaking as you call his name, and surely it’s waking up the boys, but you don’t really care because you need him, need -

‘Need it, alpha,’ you sob, ‘Need it.’

‘I know, omega,’ he grits out. ‘Let your alpha take care of you.’

And then he gives you all you ask. He gives it to you, alright. He gives it to you so that the slick is running out of you and down your twitching thighs, he gives it to you so you’re hoarse from screaming his name - he gives it to you until you feel all limp and boneless beneath him, and still he draws you out, drilling into you like he was born to do it.

Just when you think he might be satisfied, Changbin hooks a hand under your arm and pulls you upright, pinning you against his chest and hitting a new, cataclysmic angle inside you; roughly, he bites down on the spot where you shoulder and neck meet, and his hands come up to cup your tits, pinching your nipples and sending jolts of pleasure through you. He’s fucking up into you endlessly and you can’t even remember if you came already because he’s got you drowning in ecstasy, losing yourself in it.

And then his fingers are on your clit.

You can feel his knot, pressing against your core, so close, so close.

Inside your stomach, something pulls up tight, and you come so hard everything goes black.

You come to about half a minute later, cradled against Changbin’s chest, his knot safely within your cunt, satisfying you, and he’s hugging you to him, kissing every inch of your sweat coated skin that he can reach. He shifts against you when he senses you waking, nuzzling against your scent gland as he kisses a hickey on your neck - most likely from Minho.

‘Are you okay?’ Changbin asks. ‘Did I go too hard?’

‘No,’ you reply drowsily. ‘Was good. So good.’

Your hand meets his, and you smile a little as you twine your fingers together. The scent of roses and grapefruit fills your nose, and you close your eyes at the feel of Hyunjin nestling closer to you, sandwiching you between him and Changbin, your breathing slowing as you drift off.

You’re woken by a puff of air against your clit. Hyunjin chuckles when the muscles in your thigh jitter at the feel of it, looking up at you from where he sprawls between your legs, grinning like he wants to devour you. Whatever you’re lying on rocks to the side, and you bleat in alarm and narrowly catch yourself, glancing over your shoulder to find that your head was  resting on Jeongin’s chest, who is now smirking at you, eyes glittering mischievously.

The feeling of two alphas looking like they might eat you does something to your cunt that has Hyunjin transfixed. He licks his lips and you get the distinct sense that he might accidentally pop a knot too soon if he isn’t careful.

‘You two look like you’re plotting something,’ you mumble, trying to ignore the attention your pussy is demanding.

‘Yeah,’ Jeongin confirms casually. ‘Hyunjin’s going to go down on you and I’m going to fuck your mouth.’

‘Oh,’ you say, and this time you can’t ignore the way you clench around nothing.

Hyunjin groans, and you feel the mattress dip a little as he grinds into it. He buries a finger into your fluttering heat, cursing under his breath, and your eyes widen as Jeongin props your head up with a pillow and straddles your chest, his flushed cock nudging your lips. Your tongue darts out, flicking against his head, and he adjusts himself so he’s kneeling over you.

Opening your mouth, you take him as far as you can, and almost like he’s rewarding you for it, Hyunjin’s lips close around your clit. Surprised, you yelp around Jeongin’s length, hips bucking into Hyunjin’s face of their own accord; in response, another finger is eased into your core and you suck in a sharp breath of air.

That’s the moment Jeongin chooses to thrust shallowly into your mouth. You gag and get embarrassingly close to coming - Hyunjin lifts his head, feeling your weeping pussy seize his fingers.

‘She liked that,’ he remarks.

You don’t even get to reply because there’s an alpha cock fucking itself down your throat, surrounding you with the scent of mint and lavender. You’re not sure when you moved your hands but now they’re curled under the backs of his thighs, your nails sinking into his skin as he uses your mouth, and he’s got your hair fisted in his fingers for better leverage - even through the haze of your heat you can see his knuckles are still swollen and cut up from the fight.

He must have been pretty wound up because you can feel him tensing under your palms, curses flowing from his lips as he wrenches himself out of your mouth and basically shoves Hyunjin out of the way. There’s a moment where you’re painfully empty, bereft of Hyunjin’s nimble fingers, and then Jeongin slams his cock inside you, rutting into you once, twice, before he comes, his knot swelling within you and filling you up.

‘So good for us, omega,’ Hyunjin coos, appearing at your side.

Cupping your chin, he kisses you and you can taste yourself on him as he licks into your mouth, tangling his tongue with yours. Jeongin pushes him to the side, grumbling and barging him with his shoulder so he can press his lips to your scent gland, sucking a love bite just below it, his teeth grazing over your skin. You giggle at the look on Hyunjin’s face, cute and pouty despite the fact that you can feel his cock, stiff and leaking precum all over your thigh.

While you wait for Jeongin’s knot to go down, the two of them take turns kissing you, Hyunjin sometimes sneaking kisses to Jeongin too. It’s like you’re in heaven: stuffed full and content, with two alphas paying their utmost attention to you.

Finally, Jeongin eases out, and you feel the hot spill of his come - and maybe some of Changbin’s too - ooze from your stretched out pussy. He scoops up as much of it as he can and pushes it right back in, licking his fingers after: your body is wracked by a shiver at the sight, cunt aching to be filled again.

‘Need another load?’ Hyunjin teases, seeing the hungry look in your eyes.

‘Get on with it already, alpha,’ you snark back.

Eagerly, Hyunjin slots himself between your legs, gliding his cock head through your folds a few times before he plunges in. It shuts you up, fast. Throwing his head back, he groans, just a little louder than the wet, sucking sounds your pussy makes as he begins to move; there’s come slopping out of you with each thrust, smearing over the tops of your thighs and his, and he fucks it right back into you until you’re keening, bucking into him.

‘Shit,’ he moans. ‘Keep on fucking doing that, sweet omega.’

Breathless, you obey, rolling your hips to meet his so fervently that your muscles begin to burn, but it’s the good kind, the type of sensation that comes before your legs lock up, trembling uncontrollably as pleasure hits you so hard you go limp.

Pinching and rubbing at your clit in a way that is glorious, Hyunjin dips his head, giving you another kiss that tastes like you, and suddenly, at the touch of his lips to yours, you’re coming, shaking so hard that you’re shaking him. He groans your name, hands tangling in your hair to hold your face to his, and he travels a little lower to mouth at the hollow of your throat.

‘Taking me so well,’ he rasps. ‘Fitting around me just right, omega.’

A little jolt of lightning shoots through you as he lurches a little further into your cunt, coming, and there’s already so much seed inside you that a little bit seeps out around his knot, fat drops slipping down your skin. Sighing contentedly, you stretch your arms above your head as Hyunjin rests his head on your chest. You can feel the dull pain of your heat receding, giving way to a hint of lucidity, and now that the adrenaline is leaving your system, you start to feel aches flaring up all over your body.

Lifting your head, you keep a hand on the back of Hyunjin’s head so he doesn’t slide off you as you search for the familiar scent of clean linen and cinnamon, craning your neck as you twist to check he’s not among the boys dozing on the mattress around you. Just before you call out his name, the door to the room opens, and he walks in, cheeks full with some food he must have raided from the keep’s storeroom.

Jisung sees your face and immediately strides over. ‘Feeling okay, omega?’

You nod. ‘I think it’s almost passed.’

A stab of guilt punches through you. Jisung’s waited his turn, and there’s a chance that if you fall asleep now, you’ll wake up and find your heat has broken. He must smell the worry on your scent, because he leans forward and tucks some of your tangled hair behind your ear.

‘It’s okay, jagi,’ he reassures. ‘This is about you. Rest now.’

You’re already dreaming by the time he finishes his sentence.

‘Are you sure?’ Jisung clarifies again, even though you’re certain he can still smell the lingering honey of your heat on your scent.

‘Yes, alpha,’ you huff, unable to hide the petulance in your voice.

He raises an eyebrow.

‘Please,’ you whine. ‘Need your knot, Ji, please, alpha.’

‘Okay, but you tell me if you’re too sensitive, alright?’

You nod, already bucking your hips which succeeds to do nothing but drag his cock head through your folds. You’d woken up surrounded by Jisung’s crisp linen and cinnamon scent, the low burning need for a knot clawing at your insides, subdued at least by the seven other knots you’ve taken but still insistent enough that you needed Jisung inside you.

A wretched cry leaves you as he seats his cock inside you - he pauses, throwing his head back, biting his lips to stifle a moan - and you feel him twitch from within your squeezing walls. You’re not surprised; he’s been stuck in a keep with his omega’s scent rubbed all over him, the mattress and his pack mates, driving him crazy.

‘Fucking hell, omega,’ he mumbles, nuzzling at your face before he kisses you. ‘Don’t know how long I’m gonna last.’

Jisung begins to move, slowly but deep, a little smile pulling at his lips as he looks you right in the eyes, lacing his fingers with yours where they rest on the pillows beneath your head. He’s gentle, aware that you’re sore, pressing feather light kisses to the hickeys decorating your skin - some of which you don’t even remember exactly who gave to you, your memories clouded by your heat - and slowing his pace if your face screws up or your fingers tighten too hard on his.

Wrapping your legs around his trimmed waist, you pull him closer, crossing your ankles at the small of his back. His hand trails down and begins to rub steadily at your clit, and you feel the stirrings of heaven beginning to rouse within you: your toes curl, and a drawn out whine escapes from your throat, urging him onwards.

Jisung’s fingers speed up on your clit. ‘Come for me, omega.’

You keen as shockwaves run through you, leaving you spent, out of breath, pussy raw. Fractionally, Jisung slows the pace he’s thrusting into you, whispering sweet nothings onto your lips like prayers - your fingers sweep through his soft hair, the rest of your body limp against the mattress as you gaze up at him, eyes glazed.

‘Alpha,’ you whimper - it’s all you have the energy for.

‘Shit, omega - ’

Jisung cums with a gasp, knot locking into place as he trembles above you, trying to control the way he rocks his hips , grinding himself impossibly deeper into you. A tear slips down your cheek and he licks it off, the tender look in his eyes leaving you all melty in his arms.

Your pussy flutters around him, constricting around his knot as he carefully rolls the two of you over for you to lie on his chest, legs curled up either side of him so you can soak up the feel of his skin against yours. His arms wrap around you, and another hand, calloused from hours working in the smithy, brushes over your back before lips press against your shoulder blade.

‘How’s she doing?’ Chan whispers.

‘Good,’ you hum, answering for Jisung and cracking your eyes open a millimetre. ‘Really good. Really tired, too.’

He chuckles. ‘I’m not surprised, sweetheart.’

Minho speaks up, saying something that makes Jisung’s wide chest vibrate beneath your ear with a quiet laugh, but you don’t really hear it at all - your brain feels like it’s made out of cotton, and your limbs feel light and airy, Jisung’s skin so soft it’s as if you’re floating on a cloud.

‘Love you, alpha,’ you murmur.

You don’t clarify, and they don’t ask, but they know you mean each and every one of them.

When you next rouse yourself, you’re fully lucid, and Changbin’s shouting at someone from inside the bathroom. Groaning, you rub your eyes, and a low, tired throb emanates from between your legs - solid proof that your alphas took care of you through your heat, like they always do. You remember it: most of it vividly, some of it in flashes.

Flopping your arms out, you’re met with unpleasantly cold sheets. A frown furrows your brow and you lift your head - now that you’re shaking off the last dregs of your heat and the long sleep that has left a small bit of drool on the pillow beneath your head, you can faintly hear your pack’s voices. From what it sounds, most of them are in the corridor or the great hall, and you can just about pick up other voices too: the omegas you rescued.

You can also hear Changbin, clear as day, muttering grumpily to himself. Snickering, you listen closer, catching something about Seungmin, that little shit and damn towel. You open your mouth, ready to call out to him -

‘Seungmin!’ He yells, so loud you jump. ‘I know you can hear me! Where’s my towel?’

With a groan, you heave yourself upright and pull on the first shirt available: immediately, Jisung’s scent wraps tight around you. Choking on a laugh that you fail to stifle, you shuffle to the edge of the bed and climb off, taking pity on Changbin, while - rolling his eyes so hard it looks like there’s someone behind them pulling them with strings - Seungmin bursts through the bedroom door.

Just in time to see your legs buckle.

He darts across the room and manages to break your fall as you crumple to the floor, muscles protesting. Unfortunately, you manage to take him down with you and he laughs, loud enough for Changbin to hear it and think he’s the one getting made fun of, but with a mischievous spark dancing in his eyes that you know is aimed at you.

‘You’re acting as if you didn’t contribute to this,’ you retort, attempting to pull yourself up.

There’s a steady burning in your thighs, and once you’re upright, you’re wobbling like a newborn calf. Seungmin snorts, knocking you backwards onto the bed and kissing you, fending off your hands as you attempt to punch him in the ribs. Eventually, he lets up, mostly because Changbin has started screeching threats from inside the bathroom that can be heard over your giggled protests.

He sorts out his mussed hair. ‘I don’t regret contributing whatsoever. In fact, I enjoyed it.’

‘You’re always so smug after knotting me, huh?’ You send him a rude gesture.

‘As if you didn’t - ’

‘Seungmin, I swear - ’

Both of you giggle, and Changbin splutters, hearing your laughter. Still chuckling, Seungmin scoops you up in his arms and retrieves a towel that’s been stowed behind one of the pillows, taking his time to open the bathroom door and hand it back to him. Seeing Changbin, his damp hair hanging over his eyes as he grumbles at the two of you, unable to fulfil his threats with Seungmin using you as a human shield, sets the two of you off again.

The sound of your laughter attracts your other alphas. They file into the room, and Chan smiles fondly as he sees you Seungmin’s arms. Jeongin walks over and nuzzles his face into your hair, kissing your earlobe and pausing there.

‘Legs out of commission after being fucked too good, huh?’

‘Jeongin,’ you hiss, slapping his arm. Seungmin has the audacity to high five him.

Chan attempts to hide a laugh. ‘I’m going to ignore that.’

‘Well, you better not ignore Seungmin stealing and hiding my towel,’ Changbin mutters.

Seungmin laughs again, and you get passed to Jeongin while he wards off Changbin, who is still clad in just a towel. Warmth fills you - it’s good to have your boys happy and playful after seeing them taken and hurt by Goemul. You’re whole again now that you’ve got them back.

Eventually, the two of them calm down, and Chan smiles at you in a way that makes your heart swell and overflow in your chest.

‘Ready to go home, omega?’

taglist: @0bticeo @hyunjinsjeans @sleepyleeji @milkslovehotel

fyi: goemul = monster in korean

[lvlystars]

29 reasons i love you — c.sc

pairing. choi seungcheol x fem!reader

genre. fluff. just pure, teeth rotting fluff.

summary. gifting your boyfriend by just handing him the gift is overrated!!! (pls kill me i suck at summaries)

warnings. none

a/n. SEUNGCHEOL BIRTHDAYAYAYYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYYAYAYA (also happy 1 year to this blog!!!)

wc. 1.2k

you chew at your lip as you scroll through a blog, talking about how to gift your partner in various special ways. of course you had a special gift for him—you just felt like you wanted to do something small as a thoughtful little present.

“birthday kisses…their age equates to how many kisses you give them…too simple…” you mumble to yourself. your eyes widen when the next idea says the idea can apply to how many gifts you give them in the day.

no matter how much you love him, there’s no way you can gift seungcheol 29 gifts. your wallet would sob.

“baby?” you shove your phone under your pillow as your boyfriend walks into the room, drying his damp hair with a towel. you eyed the oversized white t-shirt he wore, the shirt hanging loosely over his broad shoulders as he hums to himself. 

“wanna help me with skincare?” he asks, pointing to the bathroom for you to follow him, and you nod. it was endearing how he never forgets every night—your nightly routine of doing his skincare for him, despite the fact that he is very much capable of doing it himself.

a comfortable silence envelops the both of you as you rub in seungcheol’s skin products into his soft skin, the way he grips your waist softly and stares down at you with that stupid boyish smile he always looked at you with awakening all kinds of butterflies in your stomach. that stupid smile that never seemed to give you a break ever since you met him at your old local library—when he shot that smile at you every time you spotted him on fridays, studying for your university courses, or just finding a book to read for some pass time.

“daydreaming?” his voice pulls you out of your little trip down memory lane, making you smile softly before applying some lip balm on his plump lips. you shake your head. “no, just thinking about tomorrow.” seungcheol’s eyes lit up at the mention of the special day tomorrow that he looks forward to every year: his birthday.

when his birthday rolls around, seungcheol claims that he can ‘tell’ when people are his true friends—through the test of how fast they wish him happy birthday. god knows how many times your boyfriend has sulked over one of his friends not wishing him at 12 o’clock on the dot, and lucky for you, you haven’t missed a single birthday ever since you met him. you’ve held the longest streak so far.

“sooo…what did you get me?” seungcheol grins teasingly, and you huff, rolling your eyes. “just a few more hours, you big baby. you can wait.” you scold him, making him pout just a little, his stance deflating.

“now let’s go to sleep. i promise to wake you up and wish you at 12 on the dot, i have an alarm too. now come.” you reassure him, grabbing his wrist and leading him to the bed before sliding in. seungcheol’s arm immediately wraps around your midriff out of habit, pulling you flush against his chest as he softly inhales your scent and presses a chaste kiss to the crook of your neck.

“even if you didn’t get me a gift, you’re the best present, y’know? waking up next to you is like…the best thing in the world. the best gift in the world that i get everyday.” he hums, making you chuckle at his groggy words as he slipped into his slumber.

———

you wake up and check the time, mentally thanking whatever forced you to wake up at this time, since it was about half an hour before midnight. you try to unravel yourself from seungcheol’s hold, making him stir a little before sighing again, lying on his back.

you pull out your phone, reopening the blog, and you wait for the page to refresh when an idea pops into your head, making you immediately pull out every sticky note you had in your study.

you were quick to grab a pen and doodle on 29 sticky notes, each sticky note having a small drawing and under it a little 'nth reason why i love you: check (certain location where another sticky would be)', boasting at your original idea and giddy at how your boyfriend would react.

a while later, the clock finally strikes 12, and you sigh in relief when you finally put the finishing touches in your gift before running to your shared bedroom to wake seungcheol up, who was snoring softly in the covers.

“seungcheol…” you hum, coaxing him to wake up softly, and he doesn’t respond. frowning a little, you pat him, and he groans, shaking his head. finally, you yell at him.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY SEUNGCHEOL!” he jolts awake, eyes snapping open as they dart around the room in panic before settling on you, pouting while squinting from the hallway light hitting his face. “wha…?”

“get up! i have to give you my gift!” you pull on his arm, and he groans, sitting up while rubbing his eyes awake. he whines something about it waiting until the morning, until he finally realises why you woke him up.

“birthday surprise?” he grins, his eyes now wide awake, and you nod.

“it’s like a scavenger hunt. i placed sticky notes around the place up until the present, and they’re numbered. each sticky note has a clue for where you should look for the next sticky note.” you grin, proud of your little idea, and he raises an eyebrow, endeared at your little activity for him. “there are 29 sticky notes for your age. go look!” you urge him, pushing him to the night stand. as he starts looking, you quickly go to hide with the present.

———

after what seemed like eternity, you finally hear the door to the study room open, and seungcheol pokes his head inside, his hand filled with yellow sticky notes. you held a small jewellery box in your hands, along with a birthday cake lit on the desk, and seungcheol beams when he takes in the sight.

“happy birthday, coups.” you smiled, and he walks up to the desk, his face in awe as he admired the cake, which had a small lion perched on the top with a tiny birthday hat. “for me?” he murmured, looking at you softly, and you nod, handing him the jewellry box excitedly.

when he opens the box, his eyes widen as he admires the charm bracelet you bought, the charms carefully picked by yourself as a small gift for how much he’s done for you ever since you met him. a cherry, a charm of his star sign constellation, and a series of certain charms that had him begging you to tell him the meaning behind each one.

“what about this one?” he asked giddily, pointing to a book charm, and you stared at him with a deadpan look on his face. “how we met? at the library? when you would harass me every single friday by—” “OKAYYY i get it i get it.”

you both walk back to bed once you finish explaining every single detail about the charm bracelet, seungcheol picks up his phone to be bombarded with numerous ‘happy birthday’ messages. he eagerly showed you every single message, showing you all the people who wished him a happy birthday as you cuddle up next to him in bed, lying your head down on his chest and smiling up at him. once you both get comfortable, seungcheol finally puts his phone away, hugging you close to his chest and kissing your temple.

“happy birthday, cheol.”

tags 🏷️ – @arafilez @etherealyoungk @fairyhaos @georgia-hong @gyuguys @voidsatoru @kyeomyun @starshuas @welcometomyoasis @wqnwoos @wheeboo @yoonzinuhh @seuonji @shieunviya @mykpopficblog @chaatandchai @haowrld

networks 🔗 – @c-bouquine @cacaokpop-fics @k-labels

SVT WORKS

send an ask or drop a comment if you want to be added to my general taglist!

ⓒ lvlystars

[kimakento]

&team as your situationship

pairings: ot9 x fem!reader ⌙ 0.9k

genre(s): fluff, general

tags: situationship!andteam, teeth-rotting fluff, also angst if you squint hard enough, slightly suggestive (?) on ej’s part

a/n: i actually really enjoyed writing this req n i hope you all enjoy this! <33 [this is not proofread so please excuse all the mistakes]

jo

jo can’t flirt for his life, so when you do it to him he’s way too flustered. (and you do it hourly)

he’s such a loser for you i swear (affectionately) like whenever you utter a single word it has him smiling like an idiot.

even though you guys are unlabelled, jo wanted you to meet his parents. and when you finally did, the word ‘girlfriend’ nearly slipped out his mouth. though his dad did think you were dating.

this man is such a gentleman, his love language is definitely words of affirmation. the way he comes up with compliments makes you swoon.

fuma

we all see how he’s always the sensible one among the teamies and takes care of them, he’s the exact same with you. from paying attention to you, concerned when you’re visibly overwhelmed.

always asking if you’re comfortable, doing anything he can do to help you. but your favourite part about him is definitely his arms (don’t tell him that though). when he wraps you in his embrace, you melt into him.

apart from all that, you’re definitely not satisfied with dancing around a label.

k

vv reassuring and has his eyes always on you. you guys cannot tell me he doesn’t shower you with compliments 24/7.

since he’s really tall it makes you feel safe when out with him. acts of service is his love language. holding an umbrella for you while it’s raining, carrying your bag, helping you change out of uncomfortable clothes and the lot.

although not official, k was definitely the one who fell first but wasn’t sure if you would return his feelings as he was the one who’d gotten you both tied up in this situationship.

nicholas

probably the most possessive and protective out of everyone. even when you post any picture online of yourself he’s frantically texting you.

“take it down. you look too pretty i don’t want anyone to see it except me.” and when you refuse he’ll literally plead with you. (he’s so down bad)

nicholas eventually starts sneaking you into his dorms and spends time with you inside his room. (that had been happening for months until yuma had accidentally barged in and saw you fast asleep on nicholas’ chest and he was not happy about that.)

nicho has always been slightly emotionally unavailable which puts you off from confessing.

ej

it all started when he had come over to yours late at night and he looked too pretty that you just had to kiss him. you still do.

euijoo loves it when you give him pecks all over his face until he gets impatient and steals a kiss for himself. very touchy with you, always has his hands on your waist when you kiss like someone’s gonna snatch you away.

this man acts like your husband of five years that sometimes even you forget he’s not actually your boyfriend.

juju has never been happy at your guys’ lack of a label but decided to wait for you.

yuma

calls you ‘baby’ too much for your own health. and every time you hear that from his mouth, you struggle to contain the urge to smile.

“baby, can you get that for me?” “you’re so pretty, baby.”

though you do frown when you realise that yuma isn’t your boyfriend. but all that washes away when he caresses your cheek before kissing you passionately.

he’s really lovesick, smiling whenever you look his way, holding you hand all the time and even just doing simple things by your side.

taki

he loves it when you’re in his lap, absentmindedly playing with his hands that are around your waist while you watch a movie together.

taki loves the way you call his name, it sounds so right coming your lips. that’s a major reason why he doesn’t use pet names. his name just sounds more intimate.

constantly invites you to ‘not-dates’ and believes that all the cute outfits you wear are for him. (they are but you won’t tell him that)

has thousands of photos of you on his phone to the point where he has a separate folder dedicated for them.

harua

harua’s probably the most calm about it than all the teamies. like nicholas, you’ve seen him as emotionally unavailable because of that. but he’s actually an over thinker, he’s always wanted to be your boyfriend but nothing else.

talks about you to his friends all the time, to the point they all believe you’re dating.

his favourite thing is when you call him cute but he always plays it off by denying.

once you verbalised how much you adore cats (probably because he resembles one) so one time he surprised you by inviting you to a (not) date to a cat cafe.

maki

you guys have a cat and dog dynamic, and it’s so adorable. maki clings to you, always verbalising his every thought about you.

he’s adamant on making you flustered so he always experiments new pickup lines on you even though they rarely work.

this man is so obsessed with you to the point he’s never seen without you. he also makes sure everyone knows you’re (partially) his by always having his hands on you.

wants himself to be known as your boyfriend so bad. it doesn’t take him long before he confesses.

likes and reblogs are appreciated :D

[lhswon]

CRAZY TIPS = CRAZY FEELINGS { l.hs }

ᯓᡣ𐭩 𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: wherein, heeseung is a player, a fuck boy, and a rich one too which is all what y/n hates about a man. y/n in contrast is a broke college student who barely makes a living to pay up her rent and college tuition. despite years of being in the same university as heeseung, they never had any interactions until the day heeseung finally laid his eyes on y/n who works on the counter at some nightclub and started leaving her with some crazy cash tips.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜: yandere!lee heeseung x tsundere!fem!reader

ᯓᡣ𐭩 𝙜𝙚𝙣𝙧𝙚: non!idol, enemies (one sided) to lovers troupe, kinda slow burn, teeth-rotting fluff, heeseung is a softie, you and enha are in the same age for the sake of the plot

ᯓᡣ𐭩 𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: lots cursing, suggestive scenes (mdni!), fighting, drinking, smoking, mention of substances, family issues, mention of SA, display of dominance and possessiveness, heeseung is always jealous (lmk if i missed any!)

ᯓᡣ𐭩 𝙬𝙘: unknown (as of now :D)

ᯓᡣ𐭩 𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧'𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚: whoop whoop. wrote this au the moment i saw that video of hee drinking whiskey in a party :D man he was HOT i couldn't stop myself from making this. ALSO BIG NOTE, none of this reflect the idols mentioned in real life. this is only a FICTION and for entertainment purposes only.

𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗹𝗼𝗴𝘂𝗲

the loud music and people's chaotic cheering and murmuring were the ones that welcomed heeseung and his friends, along with the mixed smell of alcohol, perfumes, and smoke from cigarettes. it was already 2:00 am but it seemed a bit more early for the people inside the club, the energy was just insane.

as they walked to find their own spot, heeseung constantly sees people making out on the spot which made him smirk a bit. his initial plan was to find someone to hook up with tonight. it was their midterm interlude after all, he needed to relax and he wanted to start by hooking up.

"i'll order us some drinks, what do you guys want?" jake remained standing while the rest of them sat at the circular couch.

"i want just want some rum." sunghoon said. jay said he wanted the same thing.

"sunoo hyung and i will just have some whiskey." jungwon followed, raising his left hand up and pointed to sunoo next to him.

"what about you, seung?" jake asked.

"just get me some scotch, please and thank you." heeseung said and jake nodded before leaving.

while jay and sunghoon was talking something about their academics, sunoo and jungwon was just chatting why their youngest, niki, recently failed his long test and have to go through intensive tutoring as of the moment.

heeseung on the other hand wandered his eyes around and when he catched a glimpse of jake on the counter, he followed him using his eyes and his breathing hitched when he saw your angelic face giving small smiles to jake as he leans in to tease you.

"come on, do you really have to work tonight? i can pay your manager so he would let you drink with me." the man in front of you insisted. you subtly gave him a 'are-you-fucking-serious' look before brushing his statement off with an awkward chuckle.

"i'm sorry sir, but we are currently short on staffs so everyone needs to play their parts." you gave him a small smile before handing him the bottles he ordered.

"oh come on, don't call me sir. don't act like you do not go to the same university as me." jake chuckled sexily which made you secretly scoff.

you have to admit, jake is attractive, hot even, but he's just way out of your league. he's hot, he's rich, he's an academic achiever, and lives almost a perfect life, plus he's a play boy which is a big no no for you. he's just everything you hate about men.

"i can't jake, i have to work. now, please do get off the counter, i have other customers to serve other than you." you said bravely and gave him a fake smile which made jake smirk. your feisty attitude just turns him on.

after successfully shooing away jake sim, you suddenly felt eyes watching you. you wandered your eyes around and you choked on air when you realize that the pair of eyes watching, and staring at you darkly was heeseung's. one of your schoolmate and friend of jake.

the way heeseung stared at you darkly made you panic. his piercing eyes never leaving you even before you saw jake put down the drinks they ordered. you're like a prey, recognized by the predator. he only diverted his gaze when jake called him, handing him his drink. you too, were nudged by your co-worker.

"you okay?" red asked. she's your co-worker, also your work buddy. you nodded and cleared your throat.

"if you're tired already, you should rest. you're about to end your shift anyways." she suggested while you nodded.

you chatted with her a bit before going to the staff room to change, get your things, and time yourself out from work. the moment you exited the club using the back door, you immediately hugged yourself due to cold. you could see the smoke coming out of your mouth as you breathe. not even the padded jackets could easily warm you up in this cold weather.

you walked through the parking lot to find your second-hand car when you saw two shadow beside your car, making out. it made you mentally scoff, out of all places, why beside yours?

it was cold and already late, you have no choice but to walk towards your car. as you finally get close to the scene, you yet again saw those familiar piercing eyes from heeseung when he watched over you while still kissing the girl in front of him. since the girl was leaning on your car, you couldn't really go without her getting off first so you coughed awkwardly.

"oh, sorry!" the girl squeeled.

finally, they stopped kissing and the girl giggled, as if she's happy that someone had just caught her making out in the parking lot. heeseung on the other hand stayed silent and watched over you intently.

"i'm sorry." you said politely as you bowed your head before moving to open the door of your car. you were about to head inside when you heard the girl murmured something.

"this car is trash, right hee?"

your eyes twitched from what the girl said. slowly, you turned to her with a small smile.

"well look who's talking, you'll just be as dirty as a trash when this man throws you away like a garbage after using you." you said before getting inside your car and starts your engine.

the girl was shocked while heeseung smirked at your attitude. without knowing, you just picked heeseung's interest, and it was the on switch for his yandere era to begin.

check out the chapter 1 here

[mingis-orangejuice]

Love and Deepspace Boys with an MC that's good with children Part 4: Sylus

Summary: You and Sylus are strolling through the park and see a kid get hurt, you both step in to help him, but Sylus may be a little too scary for this kid.

a/n: I love making Sylus do embarrassing things. It's just too funny to me. he'll do anything for MC even tho he tries to act like he doesn't care

Genres/Warnings: just pure teeth rotting fluff

Word count: 637

Previous Parts: 1, 2, 3

You and Sylus were taking a stroll in a park enjoying each other's company when “ouch” a little boy tripped over some rocks right in front of you on the path. He didn’t immediately get up which made you both concerned.

“Child are you ok” Sylus bent down to tend to the boy. The boy looked up and saw Sylus looking down at him with his red eyes and started to cry. Sylus froze, he didn’t know what to do now that this kid was crying. The normally cool under-pressure boss of the N109 zone was now suddenly rendered speechless by one child’s tears.

“Sylus you’re scaring him,” you say and push his chest to move him out of the way

“I simply asked if he was alright, is that all it takes to scare some people nowadays?” he asked sarcastically.

You bent down to see what was wrong. “Hun are you ok, that was a pretty big fall wasn’t it?” the child looked at you and stopped crying, softly shaking his head yes still with tears in his eyes. “Aww, it's ok, do you need help getting up” You slowly lift him into a standing position which is when you notice that he has a small cut on his arm. “Oh no did you get cut?” The child looks at his arm, tears start to form once again. You don’t want him to start crying again so thinking on your feet you quickly look through your purse for something that could help him. You take out some band-aids with cute heart designs on them and a bottle of water. 

“Look my two friends showed up Mr. Water and Mrs. Band-aid” You hand Sylus the water giving him a desperate look hoping he’ll play along “We’re here to help you,” you say in an enthusiastic funny voice while holding up the band-aid. The kid started to laugh a little. You looked up at Sylus who was standing over you, pleading with your eyes for him to join in. 

He sighs, bends down and in an equally funny but less enthusiastic voice says, “Yeah we’re here to help so don’t cry anymore.” the kid wipes his tears and laughs a little more.

Continuing in your funny voice you say “Can Mr.Water take a look at your arm” The kid nods and holds out his arm. It's just a little scratch with a small amount of blood. Sylus quickly assesses his arm and pours a small amount of water on the child's arm and wipes it up with a tissue from your bag. “there now that you’re all clean up it’s time for Mrs. Band-aid to take over” 

You place the band-aid over his scratch and wipe the last of his tears away “There, all better now?” you say in your regular voice. 

The kid looks at you then at Sylus and smiles. “Mmm hmm, thanks” a voice from a few feet away calls out for the kid, he turns, noticing it’s his mother he takes off in that direction shouting. “Mama a pretty lady and a scary man helped me when I fell over, they were really nice!”

You look at Sylus and almost burst out laughing

He puts a finger over your mouth. “Don’t start. I give up my dignity to help this child and he still calls me scary?” Sylus crosses his arms in fake annoyance.   

You remove his finger from your mouth “Well I guess that's what happens when you’re the big bad Onichynus leader, kids will always be scared of you” You say with a mischievous grin. As you continue your walk.

Sylus grabs you by your waist and turns you to look at him “Well let's go home and see if the ones we make won't be as scared as he was.”

[authorscurse]

Too Protective

[L.C Masterlist] | [Main Masterlist] Requests are OPEN Synopsis: Having a protective younger brother is one thing but now you know where he got it.  Pairing: Luke Castellan and Poseidon's child reader Warning: Luke does not become bad, chaotic family, teeth rotting fluff, Poseidon and Percy being protective W.C: 2.5k

You knew that Percy could be a protective brother at times, you've seen it multiple times. You found it quite endearing how he's half your height but willing to jump in front of you to protect you. However, there are times you find it very annoying. You never really thought where he got it from. Not until now at least. 

Here you were, sitting in the big house with none other than you, your boyfriend Luke, your younger brother Percy, and your Godly father Poseidon. Percy and Poseidon were both sitting across you and Luke with their arms folded across their chests. Both of them were staring straight at Luke and the poor boy could only smile awkwardly. 

Okay, let's rewind that a bit to give you a little bit of context. It all started one beautiful day in Camp Half-Blood. 

"PERSEUS JACKSON!" Or maybe not..

"Why did you soak Luke with paint?" You furiously asked the younger blonde while chasing him around the whole Poseidon cabin. "It was accidental! He ran into me and Grover's trap!" Percy explained, heavily panting because you've been chasing him around the whole cabin for 10 minutes now. 

The whole cabin was an absolute mess. Bed sheets and pillows were on the floor from being thrown or used by Percy to block you from grabbing him. "Accidental? Campers heard you and Grover saying how it was meant for Luke!" You yelled stopping for a moment to breathe. Percy released a sigh of relief but knowing you long enough he did not put the protective pillow down.  "Go apologize to Luke, Percy," You instructed him sternly, running a hand through your hair to fix it. 

"No, he deserved it," Percy replied stubbornly making you glare at him. He flinches and raises the pillow to his face in fear you'd hit him. "Go, apologize to him, Percy. Now!" You ordered and pointed towards the door of the Cabin. Percy only rolled his eyes and left mumbling about how it was unfair and why should he apologize. 

After cleaning the mess you both made in the cabin you left the cabin to do your duties as a camp counselor. You spent your morning training the younger campers sword fighting and helped out the Dionysus and Demeter cabin by plucking strawberries from the bushes. 

You were busy cleaning up the arrows from archery class when suddenly two pairs of arms wrapped around your waist and lifted you. You let out a squeal and turned around to see your curly-haired boyfriend Luke. 

A wide grin plastered on his face as he placed you down and gave a kiss on your forehead. "Well hello handsome, I hope you didn't have a hard time cleaning the paint off of you," You jokingly said while playing with some of the curls on his head. He lets out a chuckle and shakes his head, "Wasn't much trouble. I hope you didn't scare little Percy too much, heard from some campers you chased Percy around the whole cabin," He says tucking a loose hair behind your ear. 

"He deserved it," You say placing a kiss on his cheek and smiling at him. "If stares can kill I think I'll already be serving Hades in the underworld by now," Luke joked. You turned around to where he was looking and saw your little brother Percy glaring at Luke. Once the poor kid saw you looking at him his eyes went wide and turned away and almost tripped making you and Luke laugh. 

"I was shocked when he came up to me earlier and said sorry," He chuckled while leaning against one of the targets while you removed the arrows from it. "Told him to do so, glad he obeyed me," You said placing the arrows in their respective quivers. "He startled me, he was a bit grumpy about it but still apologized," He recalled making you laugh at your little brother's actions. 

"Little protective Percy, wonder where he got it from," You say letting out a sigh. Luke helped you pick up more arrows before you both heard some campers running and yelling. "What's happening?" Luke asked, confused to see multiple campers running towards one direction. "We should see what's wrong," You tell him. He nods in agreement and takes your hand in his before running towards the scene that seems to have caught the attention of the campers. 

You and Luke were both shocked to see about 30 campers gathered at the entrance of the camp. Both of you tried to squeeze between the chaos to get a full view of what was happening. The two of you were shocked to find out what got the attention of the campers. You both saw Chiron, Percy and...your FATHER?! 

"There's my daughter!" Poseidon says loudly and grabs your arm to pull you in a hug. You could hear campers whispering around you about how lucky you were and how shocked they were to see the literal sea god in Camp Half-Blood. 

"What are you doing here?" You asked still shocked to see your dad. He released you from the hug and it was then you only saw what he was wearing. He was wearing his Birkenstock sandals, khaki Bermuda shorts, a shirt with coconuts and parrots, and a fisherman's hat on his head. "Is it wrong to visit my kids?" He asked with a wide smile.

"What about Zeus—" You try to say but get cut off by Chiron saying the three of you should talk in the big house instead. The walk to the big house was extremely awkward, to say the least. It was rare for a godly parent to visit Camp Half-Blood, let alone one of the big three gods to visit their child. You were wondering how the actual Hades did your dad get to visit you and your brother in Camp. Zeus should have blasted him by now! 

You and Percy sat across each other while your father roamed around the Big House and pointed out artefacts and paintings. "Dad, what are you doing here?" You asked gaining the attention of your father. He places the vase of flowers down and sits beside Percy. "Well—" Your father starts but you quickly cut him off "Straight to the point please, Dade," Poseidon winces at your tone and finally gives a serious answer. Who would have thought that the literal sea god winces and is somewhat afraid of his daughter? Well, dear reader, even your author is shocked. 

"Percy told me you have a boyfriend," He answers quickly. Your gaze falls on Percy and the poor kid's eyes widen like saucers and look down on his lap. "Out of all the demigods you could have chosen you chose the son of the messenger?" Poseidon asks dramatically waving his hands around. "A thief's son? Really?" Poseidon asks completely in shock. You let out a sigh and massage your temple. Your father was quite the dramatic person now and then. 

"His name's Luke Castellan," Percy says in a small voice making you glare at him. His eyes widen again and looks down in his lap immediately afraid to meet your gaze. You reminded him of a Medusa however you didn't have a snake for hair and wouldn't turn him into stone, maybe only murder him but still. 

"I want to meet this boyfriend of yours," Poseidon says. You try to convince him not to but he wouldn't hear any of your excuses. You could only sigh in defeat and look for Luke. That's how you both got to where you are now. 

"So, you're the son of Hermes, correct?" Poseidon asks still glaring at Luke. "Yes, sir, yes," He says politely. "What do you want from my daughter, son of Hermes?" Poseidon asks placing his hands on the table and leaning closer. "Power? Fame? What do you want, boy?" Luke denies all questions. "I love your daughter, sir," Luke says and laces his hand in yours from underneath the table making a small smile appear on your face. 

Poseidon and Percy lean back in their seats not entirely convinced. You glare at both of them making them clear their throats and sit straight in their seat. "How long have you liked my daughter, son of Hermes?" Poseidon asks trying not to catch your eye and turn his full attention to Luke. "His name is Luke, Dad," you say between gritted teeth. "Well, how long have you liked my daughter, Luke?" Poseidon rephrased. "Ever since she got into camp, sir, 3 years ago," Luke answers. 

"How would I be sure that you wouldn't break my daughter's heart?" Poseidon asks. Luke straightens his posture and clears his throat but never removes his hand from yours. "I can't exactly promise that I'll be the best boyfriend because I know there will be times that I won't be able to make the best decisions, do the things that would make her happy, and say the things that won't break her heart. However, what I do promise to do is that I'm willing to do my best to be the person she needs and rely on. I am aware that I'm not the best but I'm willing to do my best, for her and only her," Luke answers truthfully while squeezing your hand tightly. 

You felt tears forming in your eyes at his words. For all your life so far you've never been treated with so much care and love before until Luke came. Not even your mother wanted you and the people around you kept thinking you were out of your mind. A demigod's life is not exactly the best. When you first arrived at Camp Half-Blood you still felt out of place but Luke made you feel more comfortable around Camp. He introduced himself first as the son of Hermes and tour you around the whole Camp. He never left your side ever since then. 

Never once did he ever make you feel unloved and unwanted, unlike the people you've had in your life before. He became your rock, the person you could always lean on whenever you needed to let your guard down. Before you knew it, you were in love with your best friend. 

"I love her, sir," He says to Poseidon, but his attention and eyes aren't on the sea god. It was on you. His soft brown eyes were staring at you and only you. You felt him squeeze your hand 3 times. I love you. A smile appears on your face. No, it wasn't the forced smile you would always give to people. It was a genuine smile. The smile only Luke can make you do. 

Poseidon watches the two of you and he can't help a small smile to appear on his face. His daughter was in love and he can't help but deny he likes the guy for her. Poseidon lets out a sigh and gains the attention of both you and Luke. Luke clears his throat and opens his mouth to say more but Poseidon raises his hand to stop him. 

The god stands up making you, Percy, and Luke stand up as well. Poseidon smiles and extends his hand forward. Luke's eyes widen and takes Poseidon's hand and gives it a firm squeeze. Poseidon gently tugs Luke forward and says a few things that only he and Luke can hear. You and Percy look at each other wondering what your father might have said to Luke. 

"Keep her safe, Luke, remember what I said. I'll be seeing you kids during the summer solstice," Poseidon gives you and your brother his famous wink and becomes a form of light. The three of you look away to avoid disintegrating and when you look back your Father is gone. Only the faint smell of sea breeze remained. 

You and Luke walk out of the Big House hand in hand while Percy still has his arms crossed against his chest. "Wait up little man," You grab a hold of the the back of Percy's shirt and pull him back in front of you and Luke. Percy kept his eyes on the ground and you smile at his antics. You pull him in a hug which he quickly returns. "I love you, little idiot," You whisper in his ear. "I love you too, big idiot," He says back. 

When you both release each other from the hug Luke ruffles Percy's hair. "If Dad likes you that means I should too, but that doesn't mean you could get to eat my sister's face in front of me!" 

"I promise to make sure you're not looking next time," Luke promises making Percy nod slowly. "You go finish your chores, little idiot before Mr D whoops your ass," Percy nods and gives you a salute before running off to his chorea and annoys Annabeth. "So, your Dad knows me," Luke says wrapping his arms around your waist. 

He looks down at you with a big smile on his face. A big love-sick smile. "Mhmm, so, mind telling me what my Dad told you?" You ask him playing with his collar. "He tells me to take good care of you and make sure you don't hurt yourself." Luke's fingers lift your chin and make you look at him. It seemed as if the whole world was fading into the background and you both could only see each other. 

Luke tilts his head slightly to the side and leans in closer but suddenly thunder goes off making him tighten his lips into a thin line making you laugh. The curly-haired boy hides his face in the crook of your neck and sighs. You pull him away from your nack and make him look at you, a pout seen on his face making you giggle. 

You tilt your head slightly and connect your lips. Thunder going off in the distance but you and Luke couldn't care less about it. Both of you pull away with smiles on your faces. "He also said that if I were to break your heart he'll take me in my sleep and drown me and make sure sharks devour me," Luke says making you roll your eyes and look up. "Dad?" You ask and thunder goes off again. "I think it's only proper," Luke jokes making you roll your eyes again. 

"I hate you both," You say walking away from your boyfriend. "Hey! I was joking, angel. Come back!" Luke says walking towards you. You look back and sprint away with him hot in your trail. "Come back here, angel!" Luke shouts running after you. You could only giggle and run ever faster away from him. 

Percy, Grover, and Annabeth watch you both from a good distance, with wide smiles on their face. "I've never seen them so happy before until now," Annabeth says and Grover nods in agreement. "I think Luke's great for Y/n— don't tell them I said that," Percy confesses. "You better convince me not to, Seaweed Brain," Annabeth smirks and run away. "Hey! Annabeth come back here!" Percy yells running after Annabeth. 

"Love birds," Grover smiles watching four of his friends. 

[amongemeraldclouds]

But Daddy I Love Him

Mattheo and the Slytherin boys rescue you from your father who held you captive one day before your wedding.

Mattheo Riddle x f!Reader ft. The Slytherin Boys

Warning: fluff, one use of y/n, cursing, the boys being chaotic. Inspired by the Taylor Swift song with the same title.

✿ Masterlist | 872 words

“Can’t this bloody car go any faster?” Mattheo asked gripping the leather seat, straining against his seatbelt as if he could steer the car faster out of sheer will.

Draco scoffed, “it’s the latest model of flying cars, of course it can. The car is not the problem.” He was insulted that Mattheo would even question the calibre of cars they kept at the Malfoy Manor. They borrowed it from his father without asking, but he didn’t think he would mind.

“We already went over this,” Theo grit his teeth, trying to hold on to the last dregs of his patience. He drove the car over the roofs of buildings and clouds blurred past them. He was going as fast as he could without compromising their safety. “If we let you behind the wheel, you will drive us all straight to a tree. You can’t have a wedding if your corpse is busy rotting in a tree, huh?”

“I’m not some foolish Gryffindor who would do that!” Mattheo argued.

Blaise sucked in his breath, tired of having to play peacekeeper. “Arguing would not get us to her any faster, okay Matty? When has Theo ever let you down?”

Lorenzo chimed in, also eager to diffuse the tension. “What’s next, mate? You just roused us all out of bed to rescue your girl the night before your wedding, what happens when we get there?”

Mattheo narrowed his eyes, “I only roused Theo then Draco offered his father’s car when he overheard us. The rest of you tossers invited yourselves.”

“That’s besides the point,” Enzo continued knowing Mattheo would do the same for any of them if they ever needed help. “What’s your genius plan?” 

“When we’re close enough to the estate, I’ll signal y/n. She says she has a plan to escape and we’ll swoop in as the getaway driver.”

“Sounds simple enough when you say it like that,” Enzo mused.

“But daddy I love him!” You declared, losing track of how many times you’ve had to defend your fiancé to your father.

“He’s the Dark Lord’s son-” he begins, his favorite line whenever he tried another argument to dissuade you from you marriage plans.

“Father, I’m having his baby!” You spat out, tired of his same old lines. That shut his mouth.

Your news drained the color from his face as he opened his mouth again to say something and closed it. This was going to bring shame to the family name. He was too stunned to speak.

You tried to hold it in, but burst out laughing. Your father was a man hardened by business and the ways of the world. He was not easily shaken so this reaction was priceless.

“Oh father!” You held your stomach to control your laughter. “You should see your face! I was just joking! See, there are worse things that could happen? Father, I promise this is not as bad as you think. He is nothing like the Dark Lord. He’s doing his best to be better than him.”

Your father mumbled incoherently as if holding back a string of curses. “Dear child, you will send me to my funeral! These white hairs will turn even whiter than snow.”

“Please,” you approached him, holding his hand. Trying to appeal to his affections, the way you did when you asked for a pony when you were younger. “He’s the one I want, if you could just give him a chance and get to know him.” “What about our family name? It will put us to ruin, think about us,” he responds coldly.

“I’m taking his last name, father. You won’t have to worry about that. My name is mine to do with as I please.” You were losing hope, nothing was getting through to him. You just needed to wait for the signal.

As if you summoned it by your thoughts, you saw a light flash three times and you grabbed your wand from a hidden compartment in your dress. That’s on your father for underestimating you, he couldn’t just lock you in - you were no longer his little girl. You saw the car approach the window and withdrew the wand.

“Well father, I wish you would come around. Come to the wedding tomorrow in peace, the cake is fantastic,” you bid him goodbye with those words and you cast an explosion with your wand, bricks flying and dust spraying through the air. You took one last look at your father as he stood to catch you, but you moved faster.

From the clearing that once formed the east wing of your father’s mansion, you grinned at Mattheo and your friends. 

“That’s your escape plan?” Blaise broke through the silence when the car was near enough.

At the same time, Mattheo cheered, “that’s my girl!”

You shrugged, running towards them and taking Mattheo’s hand. You sat on his lap in the front seat of the car as there was no other vacant seat. But you could hardly complain at the chance to snuggle with him.

“It worked, didn’t it?” You simply said as Theo drove you away from the mansion.

Theo just chuckled and shook his head, “you two are really meant for each other.”

✿ Masterlist

A/N: I was listening to TTPD when this whole scene came to mind. It’s the fastest I've written and uploaded a fic so far.

[suhsweet]

the compression shirt conundrum ⟡ kmg

wc: 1017 | pair: bf!mingyu x gn!reader | genre: fluff, slight cringe maybe, suggestive | tags: grey sweatpants and compression shirt, some swearing, reader becomes a zombie for mingyu pp, giggly!mingyu, just teeth rotting cuteness, reader is significantly smaller, mingyu is called a giant, pet names: honey, baby, babe, angel

summary: when mingyu comes home wearing a compression shirt and sweatpants, you no longer have any thoughts in your brain and become a zombie for him

authors note: the day we see mingyu in a compression shirt, god help us all… this is unedited, might be trash lmk

It was a quiet night in. You had a movie on, your place was clean, dishes washed, and your super hot boyfriend was on his way home any minute now with takeaway for dinner.

Mingyu had texted you that he was craving army stew and asked if you wanted anything from your go to restaurant. Sessions at the gym often caused him to develop a massive appetite afterwards.

“Honeyyy, I’m hommeee,” Mingyu’s rang.

“Hey baby— Oh. My. God.“

Your boyfriend looked at you confused. From where he stood, you were gaping at him, and somehow melting into the couch? He swapped his gym shoes for his house slippers and attentatively approached you.

“What’s… What’s going on? I brought food.”

“Who needs food when I’ve got a Mingyu buffet.” Your eyes raked up and down your boyfriend countless times. After such a smooth sailing night, you finally encountered your first problem.

Mingyu was wearing grey sweatpants.

And a black compression shirt.

A while back you told him that you wanted to see him in this combination. You knew he’d be hot as hell, however this was better than you ever expected.

It was just a plain, solid colored long sleeved shirt that was skintight. Every valley and ridge of muscles were clearly defined. You could feel your mouth water.

“Woah, woah, woah! I’ve got food here!” Mingyu whined as you rushed up to him while greedily running your fingers all over his body. You had half the mind to smash your face inbetween his pectorals.

Mingyu escaped your clutches as he headed straight to the kitchen, the hunger in his stomach making itself more apparent by the minute. He was about to pass out from starvation. His Hoshi-hyung really put him and the boys to work.

You were right behind him, following him around the kitchen as he went to plate up the food for the two of you. Your gaze never left his body. Was hypnosis by Underarmour clothing a thing? You were about to climb this man like a tree.

“B-b-baby?” He stuttered, looking at you with concern. You looked like a zombie.

You appeared to be a perfectly alive and healthy human. However, Mingyu observed your raised arms, reaching for him; and noted that you didn’t appear to have any thoughts in your head. All that was needed left was for you to moan ‘brains’ repeatedly.

“Must… Suck dick,” you said in a deep gravelly tone, putting on your best zombie impression. “Must… Suck dick.”

Mingyu let out a squawk of laughter as he backed away from you. His ears bloomed red. His toothy grin almost had you breaking character, but no! You were dedicated.

“I’m flattered that you think I look good, but an ‘omigosh babe, you look really hot’ would be just fine. This is… Wild.” Mingyu was slowly exiting the kitchen, and you were following him with slow steps.

He didn’t expect the clothes to have this much of an effect on you.

Was this what it was like to be you when you wore lingerie?

“No thought in brain, only Mingyu. Mingyuuu,” you chanted.

Mingyu managed to dodge a swipe you made at him. “Who are you? Where’s my angel gone? Give her back to me!”

“Right here, just give me them babies,” you replied with your zombie voice. Mingyu giggled.

He took a step backwards, and then another. You copied him but at a slower pace. With a final step backwards, Mingyu spun on his heel and dashed around the corner and into the hallway.

He dived into one of the rooms before you could even take another step. He had disappeared in an instant.

You wanted to laugh. With how small your apartment was, it was a proven fact that it would be impossible for him to successfully hide.

You ‘became’ your human self again and strolled towards the general direction your lover ran.

“Oh Mingyu… Come out, come out, wherever you are…”

Mingyu cupped his face with his hands, reducing any chances of you hearing him breathe. He couldn’t laugh, but you made him giddy like a child. He was a grown man playing and seek after all.

All that could be heard in the house was the movie that was still playing on the TV, and the light scuffs of your house slippers against the floor.

You finally reached the bedroom you shared with Mingyu at the end of the hallway. Little did you know, he was hiding behind the door. Not hiding, but ready to attack.

You pouted, looking around. “Baby? I’m not a zombie anymore. Just horny.”

As soon as you made it all the way into the room, the door slammed behind you. Your breath was stolen when a giant shadow grabbed you and pulled you onto the bed.

You found yourself on your back, caged in by Mingyu. He had a hand on either side of your head on the mattress, and a knee on the edge of it between your legs.

“It’s just a pair of pants and a shirt,” Mingyu murmured as he bent his head to kiss your cheek.

His nose traced patterns on your face, heading down towards your neck to take in your familiar scent. He loved when you wore this fragrance.

“Just a pair of pants and a shirt?!” You parroted in offence. You threw your arms around his neck. “It is more than that. It is the masculine version of lacey lingerie! It is the sexiest, sluttiest outfit you could put on. You look sexy as fuck!”

Mingyu blushed at your words with a very, very shy smile on his face. He knew that he was attractive, but to have you enthusiastically praise his appearance made him proud of the effort he put in at the gym. Your opinion of him mattered most.

He kissed your head. “Thank you baby.”

“Kim Mingyu, if you don’t lay on this bed and let me worship your body I swear on your dog’s life…”

“Not if I worship you first. Who told you these fluffy shorts are my weakness?”

[thebearer]

if you lie down, lie next to me |carmen berzatto x reader|

prompt: you and carmen are newly weds, moving into your forever home.

inspired by @carmybears fic assembly required which has been SO heavy on my mind lately mixed with lana del rey's "if you lie down, lie next to me" <3

contains: fluff. just fluff newly weds, alludes at smut, some language, but tooth rotting sweetness and fluff.

“Carmen, I’m not even kidding. Where the fuck did all of this stuff come from?” You groan, collapsing another cardboard box with a huff, shoving it into the pile with the others by the door. “Our apartment was, like, one-fifth the size of this one. The living room was like our whole apartment. How do we have this much shit?” 

Carmen snorted lightly, grinning and unpacking the various pots and pans. New pots and pans- wedding gifts.Your wedding came with an influx of appliances and cookware, gadgets for the kitchen that Carmen bubbled with excitement about. And a margarita maker- for you, of course- courtesy of Natalie Berzatto herself. The old apartment, you barely had space for the dishes and pots you had, let alone new ones. 

So Carmen kept them tucked away, until he got the new place for you. He didn’t have a clue at the time he’d be buying you the Brownstone you were in now, nestled in the heart of Old Town. A good neighborhood, close-ish to the restaurant, zoned in a good school district- a forever home, for the two of you. 

“I mean, most of it was wedding gifts.” Carmen shrugged. “The rest are your shoes.” He teased, a playful glint in his eye when he looked over at you. 

You rolled your eyes. “Ha-ha,” You said sarcastically, bumping him with your shoulder. “Seriously, though, I’m never doing this again. We’re here for life, Berzatto.” 

“That’s the plan, Berzatto.” Carmen nudged you back lightly, leaning to press a sweet kiss to your blushing cheeks, a loving squeeze to your ass when he passed you that left you squealing. 

“The good news is,” Carmen paused, sliding the pot onto the hanging rack over the island, stepping back to admire it. “The kitchen is unpacked.” 

“The most important room.” You hummed playfully. Carmen nodded in agreement, arms slipping around your waist, pulling you into his chest. 

“Think we should celebrate?” Carmen grinned. “Christen it?” 

“We already christened it.” You rolled your eyes at him. “Twice- no, three times, already.” 

“Yeah but now it’s done.” Carmen countered. “No more boxes in the way.” 

“I think you can only christen something once.” You give him a pointed look, ignoring the way his crotch is rubbing against your hip. You were still sore from the celebratory round of “putting the coffee table together” from earlier. 

“And I’m starving. Should we order in again?” You hum, looking at the fridge. Nothing but a bottle of champagne and leftover takeout Chinese food. Your stomach turned at the thought. 

Carmen caught your grimace, a hand running soothingly down your back. “If you want. I can run to the store, too. Grab some things for dinner. Break in the kitchen now that it’s done.” 

“I think I like that idea better.” You nod, leaning against his chest, feeling his chain through his t-shirt- the same chain you had tucked between your teeth earlier. Your knees wobbled at the thought. “What are you making?” 

“What’re you in the mood for?” Carmen tilted his head back to look at you. “Can make you whatever, baby, just lemme know.” 

“I am down for anything that doesn’t come out of a box.” You giggle, nose snarling at the Chinese food. “Surprise me, Chef.” You grinned smugly, content at how Carmen’s cheeks flushed with heat. 

“You wanna come with me?” Carmen asked, reaching over to swipe his keys off the kitchen counter. 

You rolled your lips in thought. “I need to shower.” You blink at him sweetly. “I feel all sweaty and gross.” 

“Alright. Need anythin’ else, baby?” Carmen is looking for his phone, patting his pockets and turning in a semi-circle to look around him. 

You roll your eyes, plucking the phone off the coffee table in the living room, passing it to him. He was always losing his phone. You’d begged him to get an Apple watch but he swore it got in the way of his cooking, so you took to texting Nat or Richie- who always had their phones- when you needed him. 

“Something to drink? Unless you want champagne because I’m pretty sure that’s all that’s in there.” You giggle, looking at the fridge. 

Carmen smiled, pulling his hat over his tousled locks. “I got it.” He muttered, leaning to press a sweet, soft kiss to your lips, hands splaying over your hips, pulling you closer and closer into him. 

He always managed to make you swoon like that, cheeks rushing with heat, dizzy and light with love. You hoped you’d always feel like this. Even when you were old and wrinkly and wobbly, you hoped Carmen would still kiss you like that- in this very spot, in this very house. 

“Oh, Cass Elliot?” You grinned, spinning with the vinyl in your hands, brows raised playfully at Carmen. “He has taste.” 

Carmen snorted lightly in laughter, dishrag slung over his shoulder, spooning the sauce over the chicken in the pan. The kitchen was warm, smelling heavily of spices and a dash of citrus. You’d set up the vinyl in the corner by the nook, an old school record player passed down from Carmen’s grandmother. His Nonna Berzatto, who he adored. He had told you about how he’d always go over and help her make Sunday sauce. She had that same vinyl in her kitchen, next to a picture of her parents, and a prayer candle of Mary. It was all he managed to get, keep after she passed and his parents sold everything else that they could. He’d even snagged a few records, though the one you held looked new. 

“Yeah. Thought you liked her stuff?” Carmen muttered, eyes cutting to yours gently. 

“I do.” You grinned, slipping the record out of the protective paper. “How’d you know that?” You lifted the arm of the record player, slipping out the old disk and sliding in the new one, careful of the bouquet you’d just placed by it. Carmen had snagged one at the grocery earlier, surprising you with the beautiful bloom when you’d gotten out of the shower. 

“Because, you told me.” Carmen said simply, checking the asparagus inside the stove. Your heart fluttered. “When we were comin’ back from that trip… The, uh, the one we took to Detroit, remember? You played it on the way back.” 

Your chest soared, filling with that warmth that made your body tingle from head to toe. “You remembered that? That was… two years ago?” 

“Of course I remembered that.” Carmen scoffed lightly, shaking his head at you like he couldn’t believe you’d say something so ridiculous. “You said that, uh, that one song was like the love song to you. So I-I started listening to it because… ya know, it reminded me of you and stuff.” Carmen muttered, cheeks heating at the omission. 

You beamed, lifting the long arm of the record player, letting it softly come to life with a scratch of static before the slow melody filled the room. “You’re sweet.” You hum, arms wrapping around his torso, swaying gently to the familiar medley. “Never would’ve guessed you woulda been this sweet.” 

“Yeah? I’m given’ off asshole vibes?” Carmen laughed, hips turning slightly to face you. 

“Not at all.” You shook your head. “Gave off recluse vibes.” 

“Recluse?” Carmen turned to you. 

“Yeah, like… quiet, shy boy vibes.” You giggle. “You barely spoke to me when I started… and you hired me!” 

“I thought you were pretty.” Carmen shrugged boyishly. “And I thought if I talked to you, I’d throw up or embarrass myself. Also thought there was no way you’d be single. Too pretty and funny and… I dunno, thought you’d never go out with me.” 

“Little did you know.” You grinned wickedly. “I had been stalking you in secret.” Carmen laughed at you. “I thought you were pretty, too.” 

Carmen blushed at your omission, lips twitching in a smile. You swayed lightly, cheek pressed to his chest, letting the soft melody lull you. You remembered the car ride back from Detroit. Carmen was going to some chef expo there, trying to network and get Sydney the star she deserved. You’d agreed to go along. Things were far enough along it was stable, but still new and exciting. Your first real trip as a couple. You’d stayed in a hotel, gone to Carmen’s colleague’s fancy restaurant, went sightseeing and shopping hand-in-hand. You couldn’t help feeling so romantic, shuffling songs from the playlist you listened to when you were getting ready for a date. Old school tracks, filled with symphonies and ballads of love. 

“I think this is almost done. D’you want to grab the glasses and I’ll-” 

“-Let it sit for a minute.” You sigh contently, turning down the heat on the stove top. 

“What’re you doin’?” Carmen huffs in laughter, turning while you pull at him, your hand lacing through his own, tugging him to the open space on the other side of the kitchen island. 

You just smile at him, pulling him close to you. Your hand in his, the other wrapped around and settled on his spine. His free hand followed, sliding down your back. You leaned towards him, chin tilted towards his face, his curls tickling your forehead. You swayed slowly, nothing elaborate or coordinated, just a soft shuffle type sway, Carmen pulled close to you. 

“‘M not good at this.” Carmen’s breath hitched, hand squeezing yours, his thumb gliding over your wedding rings. 

“Yeah, you are.” You hum, nose brushing his. “Best dancer I’ve ever seen.” You mutter, your lips slotting over his sweetly. Carmen’s hand left yours, cupping your jaw and pulling you closer, his lips soft against your own. Your head found his shoulder, dipping into his collarbone, arms wrapped around his torso while he rocked you gently. The sound of Cass Elliot’s voice humming out of the record player Baby, I’m Yours fading into Words of Love. The fan from the stove still buzzing with life, wafting out the steam from the pans, rhythmically merging with the sounds from the street. A relatively quiet neighborhood, filled with quiet cars and the occasional children’s screech from their strollers that pushed by. It was all so calming, the sound of your new home. Sounds you hoped would become familiar overtime and still shared with Carmen.

[noircheols]

🪓୨୧ — THE MONSTER AND ME . . . ♡

synopsis. scenarios of seventeen and their monster!s/o

genre. fluff, established relationship, horror (ish) prns. they/them cw. NOT PROOF-READ, gore (duh), death, being murdered (decapitation, fire), the ring movie reference, I PERCHANCE HAVE APPROPRIATED WITCHCRAFT IM SO SORRY TO ANY WHO PRACTICE, pet names (sweetheart), toxic relationships, cheating, allusions to suicide, GROSS!!!! in a sappy way

an. happy (belated) halloween!! I COULDNT COMPLETE THIS SMH CUS I HAD MEETINGS FOR A WHOLE WEEK

THE VAMPIRE. ⸺ seungcheol, mingyu, seokmin, seungkwan, chan

he thinks it's cute; your love of fashion. how every outfit you manage to coordinate is always so emblematic of your personality and the long life you have led.

"where's this one from?" he asks, gingerly twiddling the cool metal of the necklace dripping just below your chest. he could pretend all he wanted, but 400 years of living didn't fail you when it came to hearing the surge of blood pumping through his heart. and it certainly didn't help that he was slightly blushing. it makes you happy to know that even after three years of living together, you still had that impact on him.

"this one's from 1894!" you moved closer to him, wanting to feel his warm skin against your cold flesh. "long story short this random guy who stole from the nearby village came to my cabin to hide but i kinda-sorta-maybe decapitated him!!"

"that's nice sweetheart WAIT WHAT"

he also thinks it's cute how desperate you are for cuddles. he is more than aware that you love the sound of blood flowing and how much you love being pressed into him, because it meant you could hear it up close. he knows it has nothing to do with you viewing him as your next meal, but the reassurance that he was still alive. he was not gone yet, like all the others in your life. he knows you would never dare to go as far as graze your teeth against his skin. although... he wishes you would. what? he goes crazy for your teeth poking out every single time you smile. why else do you think he puts so much effort into being funny?

the most cute thing about you though? when you pout over pictures. what's the point of mirrors and phones if you can't see if you look good or not? if you can't record the most precious moments of your long life? how are you supposed to know if purple is your colour? but he simply laughs when he hears your complaints, kissing you deeply and telling you "you are everything i could ever have wished for."

THE GHOST. ⸺ jun, wonwoo, minghao, vernon

he knew something was wrong with his house the day he moved in. when the wires were still intact, the TV kept switching from his desired great british bake-off to the deluded brain-rotted show that was dance moms. what? can you blame a guy for wanting to see what they had in store for patisserie week? it only got worse from then on. he knew he had reached the boiling point when he had left for groceries, only for the magnets to be arranged ever so crudely.

TV

sorry, but he didn't have the budget to buy more magnets. in this economy too? whatever, maybe mindlessly scrolling through netflix would give him purpose. as he settled himself into his couch once more, he noticed another set of eyes. big, doe-like eyes, but haunting. his imagination, right?

another click, and he noticed an elbow tear through the screen, slightly distorting the actor's face. he wished he had the strength to get up from his seat, but something about you was pinning him there. you were like a predator staking out its prey, the way you focussed on him. but good lord you were hotter than anybody else alive. maybe everybody else unalive too. he knows now that he doesn't regret sitting there. legs began unravelling themselves as you slithered out the TV screen, crawling on all fours. you stood up as you unfurled your hand towards his chest, he braced himself, hands digging deep into the sofa. his eyes still remained trained on you. was it right to think you are attractive?

"chill out, i'm a ghost." you smoothly responded, trying to hide your smirk from the startled man sitting in front of you. "although... you don't seem too scared of me. what are you? are you also a ghost?" you mused, floating just enough to try and touch his hair. it looks so soft, you mused to yourself. when's the last time you played with somebody's hair again? he yelped a little, shutting his eyes for what was about to happen. to your disappointment, your hand went right through his head.

"so you're the one messing around with my TV- putting on all those trashy 2000s reality shows." he huffed, brushing himself off. weird. you put your hand threw his head but he doesn't feel anything.

"guilty as charged." you sighed, spinning around mid-air. you swirled around the man, fascinated by the newest tenant. "can you blame me for being nostalgic?" you explained how you had moved into this house with your then-boyfriend. things began to go sour and you never knew why. all you knew was that every single time he came home angry and slamming the door behind him, you knew it was time to turn on the TV and melt the world around you. soon enough you realized he was cheating on you, and when you confronted him about it, push came to shove. your last memories were the TV engulfed in flames, and you choking on smoke as the door quietly closed itself. "i used my ghost skills of manipulating electric currents for the first time by turning on the news and realizing that the police ruled my death as a suicide."

you have both developed a symbiotic relationship. he would let you watch your TV shows and re-introduce you to the joys of the mortal world, like reading books and making soup. he didn't banish you from your house, but looked after your every need (its shocking how many things ghosts need), and for the first time, loved.

as a ghost, you could touch whatever was important to you when you were alive. the TV, fruit tarts, and the magnets you would hang your to-do lists on. weirdly enough, you could touch your new roommate. "maybe i'm becoming super important to you." he teased. "would that make you feel weird?" you remarked, as you entwined your fingers among his. "no at all." he hummed, enjoying the way you traced the warm skin of his palm. peering up to look at him, you eagerly asked. "am i important to you, then?"

more than you could ever know.

THE WITCH. ⸺ jeonghan, joshua, soonyoung, jihoon

as a witch, the burning of incense and candles were familiar spells, intended to expel bad energy. but right now, you need more than to expel bad energy. you needed a guarantee from the universe that the life you lead now would be like this forever. being a witch was isolating, devoting time to a continuous cycle of researching and perfecting non-stop. like being a phd candidate, only minus the glory of being called "doctor." normally, witches have familiars, or "animal friends" as disney would like to call them that substitute the regular human's need for friends. but you didn't have one of those either. it was why it was such a blessing when he had entered your life by accident. all you remember is him asking for your number and the next thing you know you spent your days lounging in his studio apartment, with the coffee table scattered with copies of old esoteric spells from a bygone time.

as you heard the apartment entrance creak open, you knew your beloved was back. likewise, he knew you were doing well. the smell of cinnamon burning was comforting to him because it meant you were at your best condition and continuously experimenting with new spells. it was your way of saying "i've been thinking about you." that you spent hours concocting the best spells to guarantee your and his eternal happiness. it was an absured thought to him, for you to be slaving away when you already had what you wanted.

"i'm sure you don't need to worry, we're just fine without magic." he remarked, flopped onto the couch. he gazed into the kitchen, noticing you submerging a piece of paper in a bottle of water.

"have you ever thought that magic is what's keeping us together? and you're taking it for granted?"

"touche. but i still think-"

you could argue his spells were just as effective too, and that maybe he was a better witch than you could ever be. the way he brews your coffee just right in the morning, like an effective energy potion singing through you and keeping you awake. maybe that coffee also contains a love spell in it, because it makes you think about him non-stop. after all, the only reasonable explanation for the blooming feeling your chest had to be magic. "when will he come home?" "he's gonna be so excited when he figures out i made his favourite!" all those dumb, sappy, romantic thoughts plagued your mind. it's humiliating, but... maybe love is a force that not even the greatest of witches can control. wait- why did you catch him looking at your spells? did he take a peek at your notes?

@noircheols DO NOT RE-POST/COPY/TRANSLATE

[sweetieviktor]

viktor x librarian!reader (headcanons + tiny scenarios)

summary: how you've meet each other, when you feel in love and your first exchange of "i love you"s.

content warning: just tooth rotting fluff and cuteness between those two. :D

author notes: i know that sooo many people writed this same idea but i can't help it, it's just so cute and so good to write!! when i was writing, the words came almost instantly and gods, i love to write fluff so much!! oh, and today, when i was re-reading this with my friend i was thinking the whole time "damn i love him" ((and i was awoken until 3am yesterday trying to finish this one but i feel sleep and couldn't end it, but i finished it this morning and now, at night time, im posting in here! anyways, hope you guys like it. :)

» the moment the doors hang open, you turn to see who it is, and as you do so, the whole world stops.

» the prettiest man you've ever seen in your life just came into the library you work in. literally, the prettiest man.

» the way his fluffy hair falls around his face and his curious eyes keep looking at everything, scanning all corners of the room, every little thing he can, shining whenever he sees something he likes.

» and his boyish little smile, barely showing his teeth, that he was giving while talking to a furry someone just by his side.

“oh hi, dear friend!” waving, heimerdinger spoke, walking with tiny, fast steps in your direction, pausing when he was close to you. meanwhile the boy beside him was walking a little slower, his cane thudding softly against the floor.

he stopped near the yordle and looked at your face, giving a polite smile, offering to you his non-occupied hand, and you shaked it, giving him a smile of yours. “i’m viktor, heimerdinger's assistant. he said you could help me with some resources i might need, and i would very much appreciate any help your books could provide.”

“i hope you don't mind him coming here to do some researches, friend. he may come here often!” the yordle laughed, looking between the two of you and then walking away.

“ehhh.. so, do you have any books about-”

» basically, this is how you and viktor knew each other, through a friend in common. and, from this day on, he came to the library more and more often.

» at first, he just showed up, asked for a book you could provide and got out of the establishment. then, he tried to strike up a small talk with you whenever he was waiting for you to look up said books. now, he just straight up rants about any experiment he may be doing at the time.

» and if you're genuinely interested in his rant, he could go for hours just explaining every little detail to you, and he would love every second of it.

» because now he is a regular, you just analyze what he is up to in the most recent days and choose some books that might be useful to him, putting them in the drawer, below the reception desk. and when this happened for the first time he was almost flustered, because you cared enough to look up, sort and search for things that he didn't even asked for.

when you heard the door swing open, you looked at it's direction, smiling as you realized who it was. “hey, viktor! welcome again!” it was the third time this week he got to the library, looking for the same type of books, so you just worked a bit ahead this time. “i don't know if it is exactly what you need but i think that you could use these ones, they have some information you might like.”

“but i still didn't ask for anything..?” he stared at you with a puzzled face, trying to understand why you were giving him those.

“i just think it goes along with your research. also, i wanted to help.” you shrugged, smiling brightly at him.

and maybe this was when he thought for the first time “damn.. i might be in love.”

» after this, he always tried to stay closer to you, to say things you might like, to show you that he cared for you just as much as you cared for him.

» he even brought coffee (he got sweet milk for himself) and pastries for you both to share one day. and this was for sure one of the best excuses to transform a boring afternoon with no clients, into a lazy reading session, this, of course, until a client came and ruined the cutesy atmosphere between the two of you.

» of course he thought about asking you out before, but it was hard. he wasn't used to the feeling of love, of liking someone so deeply like this. so what could he do besides admire you everyday he was in your library? look at you with pure adoration, chuckle lightly whenever you said something that wasn't even that funny, and after it all just show you the most beautiful, bright and in love smile.

» he didn't like to belittle himself, but he really think you would be better with someone that wasn't him. you were so different, yet so alike him, it almost felt like it was meant to be.

» then, in one of his “oh, i will stay here for 15 more minutes and then i'll go home” times (that never lasted 15 minutes, to be honest), it was almost closing time, all of your coworkers were in their homes, no more clients in, simply, not a soul in there. only you both.

» you kept looking in his direction from afar, thinking to yourself how could you get someone so intelligent, so brilliant, so beautiful, so... him. you knew what you wanted, but again, it was hard. and, if saying your feelings out loud was way too scary, writing it all down seemed easier. so, you picked up a pen and a paper, writing in it everything that was inside your chest, your heart. you poured all your feelings into every word that you scribbled down.

» until you heard him packing up his stuff. you started to panic, and now there was only two options, leave the paper as it was and try to act neutral, or try to hide it and look even more nervous? well, there's no time to think! he was already in front of you while your head was spiraling nonstop.

“hey... you are fine? you look stressed.” he examined your face, tilting his head to the side, admiring every little feature of yours. your pretty eyes, your nose, your kissable lips...

“yes! i'm completely fine, no need to worry!” you put your hands on top of the little confession, smiling anxiously, hoping that he don't notice the sweet words you wrote down just for him.

“oh, what did you got there?” he looked at the paper, then at you, and back to paper. on a common day you would like to have his focus only on you, but it was making you even more nervous now, your stomach was turning itself, your hands were cold and trembling. and when he noticed it, he took your hand in his, and you could feel that he was shaking too. “hey... look,” he took a deep breath, almost like he didn't want to continue, like he was still choosing the right words to say. “i understand that some things we just want to keep them personal, only for ourselves. so, ehh, you don't have to show me what you wrote.”, he said with a nervous smile displayed on his lips, while caressing your knuckles with an almost feather-like touch, too afraid to ruin the moment and lose you right now.

and you didn't want to lose him too. even with your brain telling you that you shouldn't tell him, your heart knew you needed to say it, breaking itself or not. so it was now or never. “well... recently i've been thinking about our friendship, about what it could possibly be, about you.” you averted your gaze to the ground, wishing that you came up with fancier words and a better way to confess to him before it all, but you couldn't turn back now. “honestly i can't stop thinking about you, it's like you consumed every logical thought in my brain, everything that wasn't... you.” finally you looked at his eyes, just to see he already looking at you, eyes finally shining for you, because of you. “i love you, viktor. with everything in me, i really love you.” it seemed so right to say these three little words to him, to let him know how you felt since the first time you've seen him.

“and i love you too.” he came closer to you, still with his hand on yours, but now holding it gently, intertwining your fingers together, pressing quickly his lips in yours, smiling in pure awe, completely lovestruck after it. “i love you more than anything, my little star.”

[medlarmeadows]

i'm in love with you too, dumbass

cc!Charlie Slimecicle x fem!reader

Synopsis: Four times you hid your unrequited love for Charlie, and one time you discover the love is requited.

Warning(s): feelings, some tooth-rotting fluff, angst, kissing.

Word count: 4k

A/N: This is finally done! Sorry it took so long, it became much longer than I expected it to be. Will probably take a break from writing after this, because creative juices have kind of run out recently (part of the reason this took so long. Hope you enjoy it!

masterlist

1.

The chaos of conventions never failed to amaze you. Granted, it was your first time at one, but within the short period that you spent at the convention, you just felt equal parts amused and overwhelmed by everything.

Including Charlie.

It wasn’t that you couldn’t stand his presence – he was one of your best friends, of course you wanted to spend as much time with him – but if you had to swallow down the butterflies in your stomach one more time, you swore you were going to vomit them out.

As it turns out, going on an extended vacation with your best-friend-that-you-are-in-love-with-who-doesn’t-know-you’re-in-love-with-him-and-most-likely-will-not-return-the-feeling was not the best thing for your emotional and mental well-being.

To a certain extent, you were able to hide your feelings behind a camera, what with being his plus one (platonic) and camera woman (he was paying you in food, so who were you to say no?) for the convention. It was pretty rewarding too, watching him interact with fans and other creators.

You were happy seeing him be happy.

However, you were still spending hours on end with each other, so there were bound to be instances that threw you off.

“Hey, I haven’t said this yet, but you look really nice today,” Charlie told you as you were resting on some benches in a quieter part of the convention.

You nearly sputtered water out of your mouth.

“Thanks?” you replied, praying to God that your face hadn’t turned bright red. Panicking, you try for a banter:

“I mean, I look the same as always? Don’t tell me you think I look ugly on a daily basis.”

“For the record, I think you look pretty on a daily basis. You just look prettier today.”

He said it with the sincerest look on his face, his eyes crinkling as he smiled at you softly. So many words threatened to pour out of you in that moment, some suave retort on your tongue, some embarrassing confession behind gritted teeth. But all that came out was:

“You look great too.”

Charlie lets out a chuckle.

“You’re just saying that because I complimented you.”

“Well, was I not supposed to say anything? I don’t know how else I should’ve responded – ”

“How about just take the compliment, dumbass,” he huffs out, but you can hear the affection in his tone.

Affection that was 100% platonic, you tell yourself.

You’re saved from trying to come up with another response as another one of Charlie’s creator friends approaches, launching them into a discussion about something like therapy and a funny video idea.

Just like that, you were back behind the scenes, behind a camera, your pride and friendship protected for yet another day.

-

2.

When you had stepped out the house that day for a picnic, you weren’t expecting it to be so fucking cold.

It was freaking September! Why was it so windy?

You tried your best to pay attention to the story Ranboo and Moonzy were sharing, but half your focus was on not shivering whenever the wind blew through the park.

The other half was trying it’s best not to let your eyes linger on how the wind messed up Charlie’s hair just right.

“Can you pass me the strawberries?” asked Charlie.

It takes you a second to register that he was talking to you, and you give him a stiff nod, not really trusting your teeth not to chatter if you replied verbally. Your fingers seemed to also be stiff as you gripped the box of strawberries and handed it to him.

When he takes the box from you, your fingers brush just the slightest, sending a shiver down your spine that you wish you could blame on the wind.

“Thanks – Jesus, why are your hands so cold?” he exclaims.

In a second, Charlie’s put down the box of strawberries on the picnic mat and cupped your hands in his.

Don’t panic, don’t panic, don’t panic.

“It’s really fuckin’ wimdy,” you blurt out.

It sends your friends into a fit of laughter, Ranboo and Moonzy’s story interrupted as they burst out in giggles over your comment. You’re chuckling along with them, but you’re also still really fucking cold.

“Here, take my sweater.”

PANIC.

“Wha – what, wait – ” The rat running the hamster wheel in your brain is sprinting as you try to salvage the situation. “Then you’ll be cold, idiot.”

If you wear Charlie’s sweater, you think you might combust.

But the stupid, handsome, kind, idiot only shrugs and begins to pull his sweater over his head, before holding it out to you. You stare at him dumbly for a second, still trying to come up with a way to reject the sweater.

“God, stop being stubborn and take it, I’ll be fine,” he sighs, brandishing his sweater at you like a weapon. “We both know I’m better at dealing with the cold than you are.”

He’s right, because every time you watch a movie with him, you’re usually hogging the blanket.

But that’s different from taking his sweater!

As the cogs in your brain keep turning, you hear another sigh from him before your vision goes dark. You yelp and start batting your hands as Charlie forces his sweater over your head.

“Charlie – you fucking – I can’t see – ”

“Just wear the stupid sweater, dumbass,” he chides as he gets your head through the collar. “Now, put your arms through the sleeves, or do I need to help you with that too like the baby you are?”

Your eyes widen and you look away from him in panic. As your gaze shifts away from Charlie, you unintentionally lock eyes with Moonzy, who gives you a knowing look.

(Why was she so perceptive.)

(Why did Charlie indirectly calling you baby make your neck uncomfortably warm.)

“Guys, this isn’t the Ranboo baby stream,” you mumble as you put your arms through the sleeves.

That sends your friends into another fit of laughter and signals Ranboo and Moonzy to continue the story. Now, with everyone’s attention back on the story, you privately settle into the warmth of Charlie’s sweater.

You try not to think about how long the sleeves are as you bury your cold hands in the fabric.

You try not to think about how much bigger the sweater is on you than on Charlie.

You try not to think about how you could smell his cologne on the sweater.

-

3.

You wouldn’t say that you were a very short person. You’d like to think that you were about average height. It wasn’t your fault that most of your friends were freakishly tall.

Including Charlie.

Whose house you were currently in.

And trying to get snacks from the top of his cabinets because of-fucking-course it had to be in the highest cabinet possible.

“I swear to God if I fall, I’m charging him for my medical bills,” you mutter under your breath as you drag a chair over to climb on to. But just as you were about to put both feet on the chair, Charlie walks into the kitchen.

“ – taking so long to get the snacks,” he says as he enters, pausing when he sees you about to hop onto the chair. He stares at you quizzically, head cocked to the side.

“Why do you look like you’re about to climb onto my cabinets?”

“Because you decided to discriminate against me and put the snacks in the highest shelf possible,” you huff, resuming your mission.

But as soon as you’re rising to your full height on the chair, you feel hands place themselves on your waist. You’re lifted off the chair easily and placed back onto the floor so swiftly you don’t manage a reaction in time.

You’re still staring at Charlie dumbfounded by the time he’s replaced you at the cabinet, chair nudged aside, and retrieved the snacks.

“You could’ve just asked me to come get them, dumbass.” Charlie turns around with an armful of chips.

You’re still trying to process what just happened. You point a finger at Charlie.

“Why’d you pick me up?”

He raises an eyebrow at you, amused.

“To stop you from falling off the chair?”

“But I would’ve been fine.”

“Or you could’ve fallen. Ever heard of being safer than sorry?”

You pinch the bridge of your nose, trying to clear the fog in your brain that has randomly spawned. Your cheeks were warming, you needed to get a grip.

You’re snapped out of your head when Charlie brushes past you, turning just slightly to send you a playful smirk.

“Let’s get back to watching the movie. Or you do also need to be carried over like a princess?”

“Shut the fuck up,” you snark back, annoyed at him and also yourself.

You’re grateful that he had turned back around with a chuckle, because you were pretty sure the tips of your ears were turning red based on how warm they were getting.

You spend the rest of the movie as far away from Charlie on the couch as possible. When he asks why you’re so far away (and to stop hogging the blanket), you kick at him and try to play it off as wanting to stretch your legs out.

It’s definitely not because you think your brain would shut down if you were any closer to Charlie.

-

4.

Clubbing was always a fun thing to do with friends, because no matter how many people were crowded around you, or how stinky the place was, it was always fun just jumping around and dancing with your friends.

Of course, it helped when all four of you had consumed a considerable amount of alcohol.

“Let’s dance!” Moonzy squeals, pulling you away from the group and towards some open space before you can object.

The two of you bounce around each other, showing off half-assed drunken movements of really cool dance moves (see: orange justice) and screaming the lyrics of the songs blasting through the speakers at each other.

You’re so engrossed in trying to dip Moonzy without dropping her you don’t notice Charlie come up to you until he’s right next to you, causing you to shriek.

“Jesus – Charlie!” you yell at him, smacking his shoulder for scaring you.

He rolls his eyes, nudging you with his elbow.

“Not my fault you were so caught up trying not to drop Moonzy. I just came over to see what the fuss was all about.”

Your tipsy brain latches on the implication that he was watching you and Moonzy. Your cheeks start to warm at the possibility that he was watching you.

“We were so close before you came over,” Moonzy says with an exaggerated sigh. “You ruined our moment.”

Charlie fakes offense, dramatically placing a hand on his chest.

“I sincerely apologise, fair maiden,” he says in a stupid medieval accent. “However can I make it up to you?”

Moonzy lets out a snort, shoving him playfully before stepping away, saying, “Forget it, I’m going to get us more drinks.”

She shoots you a mischievous look before leaving the two of you. Your brain catches up a second too late for you to retaliate.

Damn Moonzy and her stupid perceptiveness.

Turning towards Charlie, you feel slightly awkward now that your dance partner had left you. But it seems that Charlie didn’t feel the same as he quickly grabs your hands.

“Let me show you how to actually dip someone, dumbass,” he says with a smirk.

Your expression turns panicked for a split second, but you’re not able to object before he’s pulling you towards him sharply. One arm wraps around your waist securely and suddenly he’s dipping you low towards the ground.

You’re acutely aware of how close the two of you are, how snugly his arm fits around your body, and how you could spot the specks of brown in his blue eyes.

As he brings you back upright, your proximity to him remains the same. You let yourself get lost in his eyes for a few seconds, before you realise just how close your faces are.

Nervous, you reflexively wet your lips. Charlie’s eyes dipping from your eyes to your lips catches you off guard, causing your breath to catch in your lungs.

There are words dancing on the tip of Charlie’s tongue. Words you know would ruin you, and your friendship. Because it’s not going to mean anything to him, and it’s going to mean the world to you.

You know what he’s about to ask.

You’re not sure if you have it in you to say no.

It’s as though someone dumped an ice bucket on you as you become uncomfortably sober. You yank yourself away from Charlie, breathing heavily.

“I need to go,” you say breathlessly, eyes darting around for where Ranboo and Moonzy might be.

Charlie’s brows are furrowed, like he notices something was wrong, but he didn’t understand why you were reacting the way you did.

“I’ll take you home,” he says automatically.

“No!” you shriek before you can stop yourself.

The air between you two becomes tense. It doesn’t help that the DJ had changed the song to something slower, no noisy techno beats to diffuse the situation.

“Damn, if I was such a bad dance partner you could’ve just said so,” he jokes, but you can hear the bitterness in his tone.

“It’s not that,” you say immediately. Because it wasn’t his fault. It was never his fault.

How could it be his fault that you fell for your best friend?

“Then?” he questions. “What’s your deal?”

It’s sharp, accusatory, almost like a wounded animal. One hand is clenched and the other is fiddling with the hem of his shirt.

You know your best friend well enough to know that he’s hurt.

You know you’re fucking up your friendship in real time.

“I can’t tell you,” you choke out, cursing yourself internally because you know how flimsy that excuse was.

Charlie raises an eyebrow at you. You know he can see through your bullshit.

A moment passes between the two of you as he looks like he’s mulling over his thoughts. He runs a hand through his already messy hair, something like distress passing over his face.

You could just leave.

You don’t know why you’re waiting for his response.

“Fine,” he says slowly, grinding the word out like he’s forcing himself not to say what he actually wanted to. “But can you text the group when you’re home? Please?”

There’s concern in his eyes, even underneath all the hurt. Your heart drops like a stone because even though you were being a total asshole to him, Charlie was still looking out for your well-being.

“I will,” you promise.

You’re quick to book it out of the club after that. Not even bothering to find Ranboo and Moonzy, knowing that Charlie would eventually find his way to them and let them know what had happened.

That you had left in a hurry after being the worst friend ever.

All because of your goddamned feelings.

-

1.

You avoid Charlie for two weeks.

In fact, you avoid Ranboo and Moonzy too because the guilt of being a bad friend weighed down so heavily on you that you couldn’t bear to see your other friends.

It was isolating and caused you to spiral down a deep dark hole you didn’t know how to pull yourself out of.

You tell yourself you deserve it.

Over the course of the two weeks, you tried to formulate a way to apologise to your friends, particularly Charlie for being rude and running out on him. You spent nights muffling your frustrated yells into your pillow because you don’t know how to tell him that you were sorry without exposing your feelings for him.

Part of you wondered if you should just bite the bullet and confess.

But another part of you tells you that was stupid, and you go back to drafting apology after apology to salvage the mess you had caused.

It’s during one of those moments when you were lying on your bed deep in thought that your doorbell rang. Confused, you creep to the door to check who it was. You hadn’t ordered any food or delivery, and you weren’t expecting anyone to show up –

You spot messy brown hair and blue framed spectacles through the peephole. He’s looking down, but you recognise Charlie regardless.

Your blood runs cold.

Should you let him in? Were you even ready to face him again after you practically threw your friendship in his face? What would you even say?

Knocking on the door interrupted your thoughts. You were taking too long.

“Y/N?” called Charlie. “Please let me in. I just want to talk.”

I just want to talk. Maybe he was coming to demand an explanation. Maybe he wanted to tell you he was uncomfortable and that he didn’t want to be friends anymore. Maybe –

“I can hear you breathing on the other side of the door, I know you’re there,” he says.

You let out a heavy sigh. Your thoughts threatened to overwhelm you once more, but your hand moves before you register it. Suddenly, you’re opening the door and coming face to face with Charlie.

In the two weeks you had avoided him, it didn’t look like much had changed. He still looked healthy, save for slightly darker circles under his eyes.

Did you cause that?

The two of you stare at each other on opposite sides of the doorway. His eyes scan your face, as if gauging your reaction to him being there, before tilting his head as though asking to be let in.

Sheepishly, you step aside and allow him into your home.

The sound of the door closing is far too noisy for your nerves, making you flinch slightly as the two of you move to your living room.

Where you continue to stand in awkward silence.

Fuck, how could you have let your friendship come to this?

Charlie is the one to break the silence, placing a paper bag you hadn’t noticed him carrying on the coffee table.

“I brought your favourite pastries.”

You blink.

“Why?”

He sends you a shrug, tucking his hands into his pockets.

“Thought I might butter you up before asking why you’ve been avoiding my texts and calls.”

There it was.

You worry your lip, hands fiddling with the hem of your sweater nervously. You turn your words over in your head, trying to come up with some semblance of a reason that wasn’t complete bullshit.

When Charlie realises that you’re probably not going to respond anytime soon, he sighs and continues:

“I came to apologise, too.”

That snaps you out of your thoughts. Your head snaps to look at him as you meet your gaze directly for the first time since the club.

“Why?” you ask, cringing when you realised that’s exactly what you had said a minute prior.

Charlie runs a hand through his hair, eyes closing briefly like he’s steeling himself.

“At the club,” he begins slowly, “I made you uncomfortable. I’m sorry for that. I should’ve asked first, should’ve waited for you to respond to dancing together and being that close. I’m sorry – ”

“No, stop. Don’t apologise,” you interrupt him, eyes wide. His expression falls, and you think you see fear in his eyes.

So, you ramble on like a steam train running off track. Your words pour out of your mouth before you can filter them.

“It’s not your fault. You didn’t make me uncomfortable – I mean, I was uncomfortable, but that was my own doing. None of it is your fault, I should be the one apologising for avoiding you and – and being a terrible friend.”

You pause to take a deep breath. Charlie’s mouth is hanging open slightly, and you can practically see the gears turning in his head.

You push on before you can stop yourself. Before your brain could tell you that this was a bad idea.

Because you know your next words could change everything.

“I’ve been a shit friend to you because I’m in love with you, Charlie.”

It feels like time stops for you, as you gauge his reaction. You hold your breath without realising and watch him carefully.

This was the moment he was going to tell you that he doesn’t feel the same. That he’s not comfortable being your friend anymore. That he doesn’t want to see you again. That he –

He laughs.

Not a full belly laugh, but a snort that leads to a chuckle. That crinkles the corners of his eyes and fills them with joy.

You feel a pang in your chest, and tears start to prick your eyes. Taking a step back from Charlie, you lower your gaze shamefully.

But then he’s striding up to you and lifting your head up to look at him with gentle fingers on your chin. Charlie’s other hand brushes down your arm to take your hand in his, intertwining your fingers together.

“Don’t apologise,” he says, eyes shining. “I’m in love with you too, dumbass.”

It’s your turn to have your mouth hanging open as you process his words.

“You’re what?” you ask dumbly.

He chuckles again, hand moving from your chin to hold your cheek. You can’t help but tilt slightly into his warmth, revelling in his affection.

“I’m. In. Love. With. You.”

He punctuates each word carefully, sincerely, like he’s making sure that they pierce through your confusion and straight into your heart.

And they do, because the weight lifts from your chest, and the corners of your mouth start to raise into a smile.

Because your best friend was in love with you too.

“Holy shit,” you breathe. “For how long?”

He hums as he thinks, thumb caressing the side of your face.

“Several months, now? Before we went to that convention in LA,” he admits.

“Me too, holy shit,” you breathe, letting out a small chuckle. “Were we just dumb this whole time?”

“Mm, no, I think that’s just you,” he teases, giving your nose a pinch.

You feel your cheeks warm at the action, but you manage to give a sarcastic, “Sure thing.”

Charlie let’s out a breathy laugh at your response, before his eyes turn serious again and he cups your face in both his hands.

“I’m in love with you,” he reiterates. “Can I please kiss you?”

You tell him yes without hesitation, your hands coming up to hold the back of his neck. Because finally you could let your feelings come through as transparent as glass.

He pulls you close and slots his mouth over yours, capturing you in a sincere kiss.

Time stands still again as you embrace. The two of you pour out months of frustration and unrequited feelings (that was really requited the whole time) into the kiss.

When the two of you pull apart, there’s joy shining in both of your eyes. The moment is sweet, before it’s broken by laughter as the two of you consider the stupidity of your situation again.

Charlie spends the rest of the day at your place, the two of you passing stories back and forth when you were hiding your feelings. And when your expression darkens a little as you remember that you have to apologise to Ranboo and Moonzy for avoiding them too, he kisses a little bit of the darkness away.

Finally, you no longer had to hide your feelings deep in your chest.

Finally, you could wear them on your sleeve, as the one you love held your hand.

The end.