#i hope you know these are just my scattered thoughts

[checkeredflagggs]

The Story of Us: Chapter 1

pairing: logan sargeant x famous!fem!singer

summary: logan and you have been keeping a secret from everyone but it might be time for it to come out

a/n: while I do my best on most of my works to be race neutral, this one is very very very self indulgent 🤷🏻‍♀️

a/n2: this is part 1 of 4/5, which will be released when they’re finished and I’m using pretty much everything from Taylor Swift

a/n3: I still don’t understand instagram so - no one but those that follow you can see a private accounts comments (even on a public post). Also I still hate twitter so I’ve replaced it with Bluesky

y/n_fanpage

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris, charles_leclerc, and 10,293,833 others

y/n_fanpage: y/n_nation has been busy this past week with hints of what’s to come. Obviously midnight has something to do with her announcement! Thoughts?

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user1: NO. SHUT UP!!!

↳user2: NEW STUFF??? NEW MATERIAL??

↳user1: MOTHER IS BACKKK!!!

↳user2: I forgot that it’s y/n_nation that posts the announcements now 😭😭 I feel like I’ve missed so much stuff

↳user1: girl you better go back and check it out

charles_leclerc: cannot wait! Will definitely be on repeat in the garage

↳carlossainz55: yes!!

↳scuderiaferrari: already making room for it in the playlist!

↳user3: ok but this just makes sense to me!!

↳user4: right? Of course Carlos and Charles are y/n fans!

user5: another banger album on the way!

↳user6: album of the year!!

user7: 🤞🤞 fingers crossed it’s a love album

↳user8: oh my god same?

↳user7: like I love her other stuff so much but her love albums??? Next. Level.

↳user8: right?? Oh imagine being loved by someone who writes literal love songs for you

↳user7: not just love songs tho…Thee love songs!

alex_albon: new race day anthem loading!

↳logansargeant: 😂

↳alex_albon: I can’t be teammates with you if you’re not a y/n fan

↳logansargeant: biggest fan there is

↳alex_albon: well that’s not possible

↳lilymhe: no one is taking that title from us!

↳logansargeant: if you say so…

↳oscarpiastri: 🤣🤣

user9: tour tour tour tour!

↳user10: she’s hasn’t even released the album yet? Like Jesus…

y/n

liked by user, charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, alex_albom, logansargeant, and 11,283,012 others

y/n: this is a no judgement zone, right? Right? Meet the newest members of the family — Snowball and Snowflake, Marshmallow, and Croissant!

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user11: I’m in love?

↳user12: you’re in love? I’m in love!!!

↳user13: they’re so cute!

maxverstappen1: You’re a cat mom too?

↳user14: still not over the thought that vroom vroom guys are in mothers comment section

logansargeant: good looking pups there!

charles_leclerc: it must be the season for new pets!

↳user15: ok but this seems desperate?

↳user16: oh I’m glad I’m not the only one to sense this

↳charles_leclerc: non! It is called shooting your shot!

↳user15: reads like desperation tbh

↳maxverstappen1: ha

↳charles_leclerc: I don’t think I like you anymore

↳user15: I’m not sure who you’re talking too or who should be more offended

↳charles_leclerc: yes

y/n

liked by logansargeant, landonorris, estebanocon and 13,297,934 others

y/n: We lie awake in love and in fear, in turmoil and in tears. We stare at walls and drink until they speak back. We twist in our self-made cages and pray that we aren’t — right this minute — about to make some fateful life-altering mistake.

This is a collection of music written in the middle of the night, a journey through terrors and sweet dreams. The floors we pace and the demons we face. For all of us who have tossed and turned and decided to keep the lanterns lit and go searching — hoping that just maybe, when the clocks strike twelve…we’ll meet ourselves.

Midnights, the story of 13 sleepless nights scattered throughout my life, is yours now. Meet me at midnight

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user16: what??? Like what??

user17: did she seriously just drop a surprise album on us?????

↳user18: miss ma’am mother i know that the album is called midnight but that does NOt mean you have to drop it at midnight! I have classes tomorrow!

maxverstappen1: vigilante shit is on repeat!

↳redbullracing: we can confirm this ✅

↳charles_leclerc: bejeweled is where it’s at actually

↳scuderiaferrari: excuse us while we grab our rhinestones

↳maxverstappen1: it’s ok to admit you’re wrong.

↳charles_leclerc: I’m glad you’re being truthful!

↳maxverstappen1: 😑😑😑

user19: ok but mastermind??? What kind of groundwork are you laying girl??

↳user20: right??? She’s been writing love songs for years and there’s still nothing about who they’re for

↳user21: for real!!! She’s come out about a lot of her songs — illicit affair about yourbff and back to December being about yoursister — but she’s Never! Said anything about who the love songs are about!

↳user19: I’m convinced she’s in a long term relationship and they’re all about her partner!

↳user20: user53 your help is needed rn!

↳user53: oh god not again

↳user19: when im right im gonna laugh in your face

↳user53: uh huh sure you will

alex_albon: do we have to pick a favorite?? Can’t we just play it on repeat in it’s entirety?

↳lilymhe: we absolutely will be doing that

↳logansargeant: really? The entirety??

↳alex_albon: for someone who tried to say you were her biggest fan, this is disappointing behavior

↳lilymhe: it really is

↳logansargeant: 🤷🏼‍♂️🤷🏼‍♂️

↳logansargeant: 🤣

oscarpiastri: my sisters have been screaming at me since it dropped

↳logansargeant: oops. Sorry about that man — know how that feels

↳hattiepiastri: we! need! a! signed! copy!

↳oscarpiastri: I thought you were just into kpop?

↳hattiepiastri: mom! nicolepiastri Oscar is being mean!

↳oscarpiastri: low blow.

↳hattiepiastri: 🤨🥺

↳oscarpiastri: …I’ll see what I can do

↳user19: 🧐🧐🧐

landonorris: I don’t know which one to choose as a favorite…

↳oscarpiastri: oh no

↳landonorris: which means all of them are!

↳oscarpiastri: does this mean…

↳carlossainz55: he will be singing the entire album at the top of his lungs, yes

↳danielricciardo: it won’t be good singing but it will be consistent

↳oscarpiastri: no

↳carlossainz55: yes

↳danielricciardo: yup

↳landonorris: go away muppets! Leave me and y/n and her album alone

↳oscarpiastri: 🤣🤣

logansargeant

liked by not_y/n, oscarpiastri, alex_albon, and 1,294,278 others

logansargeant: always a great feeling being back home — even better with new friends

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user22: new puppy??? Winter break did Logan good this year!

alex_albon: you didn’t tell me you got a new dog!

↳logansargeant: haha it’s technically not mine but sorry!

↳alex_albon: you got a new dog and didn’t tell me!! Me!!

↳logansargeant: 😂😂

↳lilymhe: he’s pacing right now, he’s in distress

↳logansargeant: sorry not sorry

↳logansargeant: would a visit with him help?

↳alex_albon: it is literally the least you could do

↳logansargeant: 😂 he’ll be at Miami

↳alex_albon: good!

user23: ummm?? Could I take the place of the puppy???

user24: I’m?? Jealous? Of a dog…

↳user25: big mood

↳used24: this is not where I predicted my life would be 10 years ago…

↳user25: no one ever does.

user19: am I gonna be attacked if I say something?

↳user53: potentially

↳user19: do you just have me on notifications??

↳user26: we alert them every time we see you post

↳user26: you scare us

↳user19: just because I’m always right doesn’t mean I’m scary

↳user53: ok let’s take it to dms.

↳user19: buckle up then buddy cause I’ve got it all printed out

↳user26: user53 is a real one 🫡 taking it for team

↳user19: 😡😡😡

↳user53: user19 come on. Explain your newest conspiracy

not_y/n: what a cutie! And he looks so well behaved

↳not_logan: why thank you!

↳not_oscar: gross guys. Keep it to yourselves please and thank you

↳not_y/n: why?? Want me to call you a good boy too??

↳not_logan: absolutely not!

↳not_oscar: eww 🤢 you’re solidly in the sister category and this is not game of thrones

↳not_y/n: 😜

↳not_y/n: speaking of — hotd season 1 binge before Miami?

↳not_logan: yes!

↳not_oscar: yes! — L

↳not_oscar: i guess that it’s a yes from us

y/n

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, maxverstappen1, and 16,294,923 others

y/n:

What keeps you up at night?

It’s a momentary glimmer of distraction. The tiniest notion of reminiscent thought that wanders off into wondering, the spark that lights a tinderbox of fixation. And now it is irreversible. The flame has caught. You’re wide awake.

3am is different from midnight — the sky is ever darker and the thoughts even more haunting. Things that would keep you up at one don’t at the other.

Midnights: the 3am edition is yours now

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user27: why? Would? You? Do? This? To? Me?? I just barely got over midnights?? And now I have to listen to 3am??

oscarpiastri: again? Didn’t we just go through this 2 weeks ago?

↳landonorris: WOOOO!

↳oscarpiastri: oh no 😥

↳logansargeant: you could show some enthusiasm? You’ve definitely said she’s one of your favorite artists before

↳oscarpiastri: she is. Lando’s version of her? Not so much

↳landonorris: so rude!

↳carlossainz55: I think it might be a self defense mechanism

↳danielricciardo: gotta save those eardrums somehow

↳landonorris: 😡😡

danielricciardo: Paris baby!

↳user28: I knew you were a man of taste!

↳yukitsunoda0511: he’s really not. The Great War is superior

↳danielricciardo: you wish

user29: ok but would’ve, could’ve, should’ve??

↳lilymhe: karma is still the superior song

↳alex_albon: bigger than the whole sky? Did you miss that song?

↳lilymhe: we’re breaking up. I can’t be with someone who’s top song isn’t karma

↳user29: sorry but you’re both wrong 🤷🏼‍♂️

user19: Paris???? Are you kidding me!??!? And The Great War?!??

↳user53: I’m gonna need you to take a deep breath

↳user19: I told you!

↳user53: yes you did. And, and I can’t believe I’m saying this, I’m starting to believe you

↳user30: who are you and what happened to user53?

↳user53: I don’t know man. I don’t know

↳user53: however user19 might be on to something here…

↳user19: MIGHT?!?

↳user19: just you wait!

y/n_nation

liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri, charles_leclerc, and 19,294,923 others

y/n_nation: pack your backs and get your tickets! Coming to a city near you, the Eras Tour is a journey through y/n’s decade long music career!

Starting in Miami, Opening Night is Monday, May 6…more

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user30: YES!!!

↳user31: omg omg omg omg!!!!

danielricciardo: already planning on it!

↳maxverstappen1: so lucky that opening day is immediately after the Miami GP!

↳danielricciardo: exactly! It’ll be nice to spend a few extra days in Florida!

↳user19: yes so lucky…

oscarpiastri: on the one hand I think my sisters would kill me if we didn’t go for opening night…on the other hand I don’t know if I can do a live show with Lando…

↳logansargeant: maybe you’ll get lucky and have separate seating?

↳oscarpiastri: one could only hope…

↳landonorris: you frickin muppets

↳hattiepiastri: seriously???

↳oscarpiastri: will work on it

↳hattiepiastri: yes!!

alex_albon: suddenly i feel like the garages will have a lot of extra guests…

↳lilymhe: what do you mean? I always planned on going to Miami!

↳alex_albon: does always mean 20 minutes?

↳carmenmmundt: it does actually!

↳georgerussell63: since when?

↳francisca.cgomes: for about the last 20 minutes!

↳pierregasly: hint received

↳francisca.cgomes: 🤭

user32: ok i need to be at opening night now…

↳user33: right? The chance to see all these drivers in person?

↳user32: AND to see y/n perform live?!? Dream come true

charles_leclerc: I am ready to fight the Ticketmaster

↳alexandrasaintmleux: yay!

↳user34: oh to have Charles leclerc fight Ticketmaster for you…

logansargeant

liked by not_y/n, oscarpiastri, alex_albon, and 1,214,223 others

logansargeant: last minute dates before the season starts

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user35: who? What? Where? When?

↳user36: A GIRLFRIEND?!??!!? SINCE WHEN????

alex_albon: first you get a dog and don’t tell me and now you have a whole ass GIRLFRIEND AND DIDNT TELL ME???? Where is the team loyalty?

↳logansargeant: …we’ve been together longer then I’ve been your teammate?

↳user37: what?? HOW LONG?

↳alex_albon: exactly! HOW LONG???

↳logansargeant: just over 10 years now

↳alex_albon: you were a baby?

↳logansargeant: I was nearly 14?

↳alex_albon: a baby!!

oscarpiastri: tell her to answer her texts

↳logansargeant: she said she’s on a strict no phone policy

↳oscarpiastri: I can see her on her phone right now

↳logansargeant: “oh it’s exclusively against Australians who mocked my cooking attempts”

↳oscarpiastri: 😑😑😑

↳oscarpiastri: whatever she made IT WAS NOT BANANA BREAD

↳logansargeant: “but you didn’t have to laugh at me!”

↳alex_albon: the Australian knows???

↳oscarpiastri: there are levels here albon. Gotta get on my level — childhood best friends

jensonbutton: you’ve never mentioned you had a girl, kid

↳logansargeant: ok but to be fair you’ve never asked?

↳jensonbutton: and you’ve never introduced us?

↳logansargeant: she supports from a distance — she also travels a lot for work

↳jensonbutton: kid…

↳alex_albon: DOES ANYONE BUT THE AUSTRALIAN KNOW??

↳oscarpiastri: my family knows

↳alex_albon: Logan…

↳logansargeant:😂

user38: that Florida sun does something amazing for Logan!

↳user39: is it the sun or is it the girl??

↳logansargeant: it’s not the girl

↳logansargeant: it’s my girl

↳user39: I am literally swooning right now good lord

user19: user53! I told you

↳user53: …yeah ok

↳user40: user19 I need the timeline I need the proof I need the receipts

↳user19: I’ve got you!

Bluesky

f1

liked by logansargeant, maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc, and 8,923,924 others

tagged: y/n, y/n_nation

f1: it’s time to be fearless! Miss Americana will be performing the National Anthem at the Miami GP the day before the start of her Eras tour!

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user41: oh my god!!! I get to see her twice???

↳user42: seriously??? I’m so jealous

↳user41: I don’t know which gods blessed me but I managed to get tickets to both!!

↳user42: you know I heard it’s good to sleep with your windows open…

maxverstappen1: y/n the Redbull Garage would gladly welcome you!

↳redbullracing: absolutely! You Belong With Us!

↳user43: …is the redbull admin playing wingman for max?

↳redbullracing: the grind never stops

↳maxverstappen1: thanks admin

↳user43: gotta respect that I guess

landonorris: I think papaya is more your color y/n!

↳user44: I think she might prefer a winner actually

↳user44: you know to match her 3 album of the year’s

↳landonorris: ok i let stand the bullying from my friends and teammates

↳landonorris: but im not gonna stand for it from you

williamsracing: i think we could have The Best Day with you and your fellow American y/n!

↳logansargeant: hey what?

↳alex_albon: that’s it? Gonna need more enthusiasm from the guy who “claims” he’s the biggest fan

↳lilymhe: yeah! Show off your American spirit

↳logansargeant: caw caw 🇺🇸🇺🇸🦅🦅

↳y/n: stunning show

↳lilymhe: 🤯🤯

user49: did…did she just…

↳user50: respond to Logan Sargeant? Yeah

↳user49: ohmygod

scuderiaferrari: I do believe Red is your color y/n

↳charles_leclerc: we look best in Red here!

↳carlossainz55: and we have ice cream!

↳charles_leclerc: yes! Custom ice cream just for you

↳alexandrasaintmleux: and we’ll even have a puppy if you’d like a puppy play date!

↳charles_leclerc: yes leo is very well behaved

↳user51: the desperation stinks all up in here

user52: i am living for all the garages trying to get y/n to join them for the weekend

↳user54: my favorite part is the desperation coming from the drivers

↳user54: silly vroom vroom guys and gals thinking they could shoot their shot with y/n… liked by not_y/n

Private Messages

y/n_gossip

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y/n_gossip: breaking! Coming from unknown sources are apparently leaked photos from y/n’s private phone.

My questions are how was she hacked and who is the guy!

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Private Messages

[reilemon]

🌹Surrender❄️

♡︎ synopsis: Sylus and Zayne show you that you can't get away with lying.

♡︎ pairing: Sylus x fem!reader x Zayne

♡︎ tags: barely any plot, mfm dynamic, oral (both male and female receiving), orgasm denial, dvp

♡︎ word count: 5.5k

♡︎ a/n: this fic is part of the Secret Santa Fic Exchange event made by @nanamiscocksleeve and I wrote for @laddelulu30 . It was challenging ngl, but I had fun and I hope you'll like it!

♡︎ Thank you to my dearest friend and my beta reader♡︎@its-de♡︎ for helping. divider by @anitalenia

The car hums softly, the tension inside it palpable. Zayne’s hands grip the wheel, his hazel green eyes fixed on the road ahead, occasionally glancing into the rearview mirror. In the back seat, Sylus sits with his arms crossed over his broad chest. You sit beside him, looking out the window, twisting the damp hem of your shirt as you can feel Sylus’ glare on you.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Zayne’s calm voice breaks the silence.

You hesitate, your gaze dropping to your lap. “It wasn’t planned,” you mumble. “My friend called last minute... I didn’t think it’d be a big deal.”

Sylus shifts beside you, leaning closer. “You didn’t think lying about being at a coffee shop might be a big deal? Or leaving your location on so I’d find out anyway?”

You stiffen, guilt tightening your throat. “I thought both of you were busy and it was just easier that way.”

Sylus scoffs. “Easier? For who? You, sneaking out? Or us, finding out you’re not in your apartment like we thought?”

“Sylus,” Zayne interjects, his eyes flick to the mirror, catching yours. “This isn’t about the coffee shop, or even going out. It’s about trust. We can’t keep you safe if we don’t know where you are.”

The word trust stings more than Sylus’ sharper tone. Your fingers clench tighter around your sleeve, twisting the fabric until it wrinkles under your grip. “I wasn’t trying to hide anything,” you say with a lump in your throat. “My friend needed me tonight. She just got out of a bad relationship, and wanted to go out.”

Sylus presses further. “And when it got dangerous? What then? You knew enough to text me—why not just tell me the truth from the start?”

Zayne’s grip on the wheel tightens. “Do you know what went through my head when Sylus told me you weren’t home?” he asks, his voice quieter now. “When I saw where you were? You’re lucky we got there in time.”

Your throat tightens, and you glance out the window as you mumble, “I didn’t think it’d turn into such a mess.”

Zayne exhales slowly, and you can see Sylus in the corner of your eye shaking his head. You know you’re in the wrong and that you made a few stupid decisions tonight, but your pride is not letting you admit it.

The car slows to a stop at a drive-thru, and you hear Sylus grumbling under his breath.

“This place again?”

You can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips when you catch Zayne roll his eyes before answering. “Yes, it’s the only nearby place that works at this hour.”

Sylus sighs dramatically but complies, rattling off an order as though it’s beneath him.

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

The apartment greets you with its familiar scent and warmth. What also greets you is pieces of clothing and makeup scattered around the living room. You’re sure your boyfriends noticed the mess, but you’re surprised no one made a single comment as they made their way to the kitchen. You take off your shoes and join them. 

Sylus places the bag of food onto the table, his gaze flicking toward you. “Are those the new jeans?” he asks. 

Caught off guard, you glance down at yourself, smoothing your hands over the denim. “Uh, yeah.” 

“Told you they’d look good,” he says, leaning back against the table, his arms crossing over his chest. The way he says it makes your cheeks warm. 

Before you can respond, Zayne’s voice cuts in, giving you the same compliment. He steps closer, his eyes softening as they glance over you. Tonight, their attention makes you more flustered than usual, so you thank them, your cheeks burning, and you busy yourself with helping Zayne unpack the food.

The three of you engage in small talk as you eat the late-night meal, the earlier tension from the car ride dissipating with each bite. Despite his complaints, Sylus cleans his plate with the efficiency of someone who secretly enjoyed it.

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

Remnants of the day washed away after the shower, the three of you settle on the sofa to watch a movie. Zayne and you slipped into pajamas while Sylus put on a shirt and sweatpants he kept in your apartment. As you sink into the sofa, the warmth of their presence surrounds you. You cover yourself with a blanket, nestling into the space between them. Sylus leans in to press a gentle kiss to your temple, his lips lingering just long enough to send a small shiver through you. “Comfortable?” he murmurs, his voice low and warm.

You nod, your cheeks warming as Zayne reaches for your hand. His touch is light as he lifts it to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “It’s been a long night,” he says quietly, his gaze meeting yours. “You should try to relax.”

The tenderness of each gesture dissolves a little more of the tension lingering from the car ride. For a moment, it feels like the night’s events have been smoothed over.

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

The blanket draped across your legs is warm, wrapping you in comfort as the faint scent of soap and shampoo lingers from the showers. You stretch out slowly, eyes still on the tv as you move to rest your head on Sylus’ lap. His hand rests on your head, the light touch of his fingers soothing. Your legs find their place on Zayne’s lap, his strong hands moving to cradle your feet. When his fingers press gently into your arches, eliciting a soft sigh from your lips. The way his thumbs knead into your soles sends tiny ripples of relief through your body. Sylus’ fingers gently massage your temple, while Zayne’s hands work slowly over your calves. For a moment, you’re content to lie there, letting their attention wash over you.

But your hand starts to wander.

It traces along the fabric of his sweatpants as you brush over the firm muscle of his thigh before your palm settles over his crotch. Sylus chuckles, and you feel his body tense slightly under your touch. His hand stills as he glances down at you. “You sure you’re not tired?”

You nuzzle against his thigh, “I’m sure,” you say softly.

Sylus’ gaze flicks past you, meeting Zayne’s over your head, the exchange passing in an instant.

You shift onto your back, blissfully clueless, the warmth of the blanket replaced by the cool air of the room as Zayne slides it away, folding it neatly onto the backrest. His hands move to the waistband of your shorts, his fingers brushing lightly against your skin, sending faint shivers along your body as he pulls off the piece of clothing. You draw a sharp breath as Zayne’s long fingers trace the sensitive spot between your legs, the barrier of your underwear doing little to dull the sensation. His thumb presses gently, testing your reaction.

Above you, Sylus watches your face as you’re still resting your head on his lap. His hand threads through yours, his grip steady as he lifts your hand to press a kiss to your knuckles.

Zayne’s eyes flicker down, his full attention locked on the slow movements of his fingers. The pads of his ring and middle finger press firmly against the soaked fabric of your panties, sliding back and forth at a slow pace. The pressure builds as he alternates his rhythm—pushing his fingers harder against you, dragging them in slow strokes, then pulling back just enough to make you whimper. The dampness of your arousal soaks through the thin barrier, your panties clinging to your folds.

“Fuck,” Zayne murmurs. “You’re so wet, my sweet girl. You like this that much? Being teased like the needy little brat you are?”

Heat floods your cheeks at his words, but before you can respond—his thumb circles your clit, pressing firmly enough to draw a gasp from your pretty lips. Your hips shift against his touch instinctively, desperate for more, but his movements remain infuriatingly measured.

Zayne shifts, his hands pressing against your thighs, keeping you open as his head hovers just between your legs. Your legs tremble in his hold when you feel it - the slow swipe of his tongue over the fabric. A quiet moan escapes your lips as he does it again, his tongue dragging across the sensitive spot, his saliva mixed with your slick making the fabric cling to you. Your free hand moves instinctively, fingers sliding into Zayne’s dark hair, urging him closer, urging him to give you more. His eyes flick up briefly, and then you hear Sylus’ sharp tut from above.

“Tsk, tsk. You’re not in charge here, sweetie.” Sylus’ voice is rich with mock disapproval. He reaches down, his fingers wrapping around your wrist as he pulls your hand away from Zayne’s head with. He presses your hand above your head, holding both of your wrists in place with one hand, while Zayne’s grip on your hips tightens, making it impossible to move. His fingers press into your skin, holding you down as his tongue flicks out again, swirling slow, maddening circles over your clit. Your head tilts back against Sylus’ thigh, a frustrated sound escaping your lips as you try to shift against Zayne’s hold.

“Look at her,” Sylus muses as he watches you squirm. “So fucking needy. Isn’t that cute?”

Zayne chuckles against you, the vibrations making your toes curl. But, after a few more frustratingly dragged out swipes, he finally relents. His hold on your hips loosening just enough to slide your soaked panties to the side, the cool air kissing your exposed skin, spreading goosebumps all over your skin. His thumb brushes lightly along your folds, spreading the slickness, before his tongue is finally on you, dragging slow swipes from your entrance to your clit. Relief courses through you, your thighs trembling as the ache that’s been building finally begins to ease. His tongue moves with precision, parting your folds and swirling around your clit with just the right amount of pressure.

Above you, Sylus’ ruby gaze flickers down, his fingers sliding under the hem of your shirt. The fabric bunches in his hand as he lifts it higher, revealing the soft curves of your breasts, the cool air making your nipples pebble instantly. His free hand traces slow circles around one hardened peak, his thumb brushing lightly over it, teasing, before he pinches just enough to make your back arch off the sofa. Then, slowly, his hand trails up, over the side of your neck, before settling on your bottom lip. The gentle pressure makes your lips part instinctively, your tongue swirling around his finger. Sylus adds another finger, the digits sliding deeper as your lips tighten around them, coating them in saliva. Then he pulls them free and drags them down, swirling over the hardened peaks, the added slickness making you moan.

“You’re close, aren’t you?” Sylus asks, his smirk widening as his fingers press harder, rolling your nipples between them.

Zayne’s lips seal around your clit with just enough suction to make you cry out. Each stroke and suck builds the pressure inside you to a breaking point, your toes curling as the pleasure coils tight in your core, threatening to snap. You’re so close—so close you can feel yourself teetering on the edge—

And then Zayne pulls back.

The loss of contact draws a frustrated, broken whimper from your lips, your hips jerking against nothing.

Zayne looks up at you, his eyes gleaming with dark amusement as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “Don’t look so surprised,” his voice calm and infuriatingly composed. “Brats don’t get to finish so easily.” His hands stay firm on your hips, keeping you still as you try to move.

Your lips part in protest, but Sylus cuts you off with a smug tut. “Ah, ah,” he smirks. “You’ll have to earn it first.” His fingers slide down, gliding over your soaked folds before delivering a sharp tap to your swollen pussy, the sudden jolt making you flinch with a yelp.

“Look at this mess,” he mutters, his voice dripping with mockery as he taps again, watching you flinch. “Needy little thing.”

His fingers glide through, your body arching into his touch in desperate need of more. But then he pulls away, leaving you trembling in frustration. His glistening fingers rise to his lips, his eyes locking onto yours as his tongue flicks out, savoring the blend of your juices and Zayne’s lingering taste. He chuckles, “You know we don’t let bad behavior slide.”

Before you can protest, Zayne’s hand slides along your jaw, tilting your face toward him. His hazel eyes meet yours, “You know we’re not angry,” Zayne says softly, as his thumb brushes over your bottom lip. “But we will take our time making sure you understand.”

His words send a fresh wave of heat coursing through you, your body trembling under the weight of their attention. Frustration wells up, but so does the thrill of knowing exactly what they’re doing. Of course, they wouldn’t let you off so easily—it’s Sylus and Zayne.

Sylus releases your wrists, and before you can process the absence of his touch, Zayne reaches for your hands, pulling you upward with ease until you’re sitting on the sofa. Sylus stands up, stepping beside you as his hands hook into the waistband of his sweatpants. He tugs them down just enough to free his cock - thick, flushed with a bead of precum at the tip. Your breath catches as he strokes himself lazily, his eyes glinting when he notices your gaze drop to his length.

“Come here,” Sylus commands as he plants one foot on the floor, the other on the sofa, your mouth watering at the sight. He strokes one last time before dragging the head of his cock toward your parted lips. The salty bead of precum hits your tongue, and you can’t stop the whimper that escapes as you take him in. Sylus growls, his hand resting on the back of your head, holding you steady.

Beside you, Zayne stands up, mirroring Sylus’ stance, as he slides his pajama pants down and frees himself. He wraps his fingers around your wrist and pulls your hand to him, curling it around his cock. He’s hot and heavy in your palm, twitching as his hand envelopes yours, his grip firm as he helps you stroke him. “Slow,” he murmurs softly. “Feel how hard you’ve made me.”

Sylus’ hips begin to move, his thrusts shallow at first, as the thick head of his cock pushes deeper past your parted lips. You hollow your cheeks, your tongue flattening beneath him, and the sharp hiss that escapes his lips goes straight to your core.

“Deeper,” Sylus growls, “I know you can take it.”

He doesn’t wait for you to adjust—his grip keeps you firmly in place as his hips roll forward, forcing his cock further down your throat. Tears prick the corners of your eyes as you struggle to keep up, swallowing around the thick length stretching your throat. Spit drips from the corners of your mouth as he moves, hitting the back of your throat, making you choke with each thrust. Sylus’ movements falter for a moment, his thrusts growing erratic and then, abruptly, he pulls back. The sudden loss leaves you breathless and you look up to see his jaw clenched, his hand squeezing the flushed tip.

“Fuck,” he mutters in a shaky voice. “Almost made me finish down your throat.”

Before you can catch your breath, Zayne’s hand tilts your chin, guiding your mouth toward him, your lips parting instinctively as the head of his cock brushes against them. He presses forward, filling your mouth, his eyes locking onto yours as your tongue swirls around the tip, savoring the salty taste. A low groan escapes him, his hand resting on the back of your head as he sets a languid pace. Your jaw aches from the stretch, but the weight of him—hot and heavy against your tongue—makes you moan softly, the sound vibrating against him. Your hand finds Sylus, wrapping around his slick length as you stroke him in rhythm with Zayne’s thrusts. Sylus hisses through his teeth, his cock twitching in your grasp as he watches.

The ache between your legs becomes unbearable, your thighs pressing together in the desperate need for release. Unfortunately for you, Zayne’s sharp eyes catch the motion. Abruptly, he pulls back, his cock slipping free with a wet pop.

“No,” he says firmly, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. His grip on your chin forces your gaze upward. “Spread your legs.”

You almost whimper at the tone. “But—”

“Spread them,” Zayne repeats. The authority in his voice makes your thighs part, the frustration growing as Sylus chuckles above you.

Zayne’s hand shifts, guiding your mouth back to him. His cock slides past your lips again, and this time his thrusts are faster, each movement pushing deeper until the tip hits the back of your throat. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes again, the sound of your gagging pulling a guttural growl from him.

“Just like that,” Zayne murmurs, his voice rough. “Take all of it.”

Beside him, Sylus’ breaths become rough and uneven as his hand tightens over yours, his hips snapping forward, drawing Zayne’s attention.

Zayne’s hand slides to the back of Sylus’ neck, pulling him forward until their faces are almost touching. His voice drops low, quiet enough that you can’t make out the words. Their whispers drip with intent, and the thought of them planning your undoing makes your pussy clench desperately, slick spilling over as your body begs to be used exactly the way they want.

Sylus’ eyes flick to Zayne’s, hazy with arousal, with a faint smirk on his lips. Zayne’s lips press to the sharp line of Sylus’ jaw, followed by teeth dragging over his skin before he bites down, rough enough to leave a mark. The sharp sting rips a guttural, feral sound from Sylus’ throat, his cock twitching in your hand, precum spilling along your fingers.

“Good,” Zayne mutters against Sylus’ jaw before he pulls back, releasing Sylus’ neck. Their eyes meet for a moment, before their full attention is back on you.

Zayne’s thrusts grow erratic, his cock hitting the back of your throat one last time before he pulls out, leaving you gasping. You barely have time to recover before Sylus’ hand grips your jaw, tilting your face toward him, but his other hand grabs at the hem of your pajama top, tugging it upward in one swift motion, leaving you bare before him.

“Open,” Sylus commands, and your mouth falls open instantly, tongue slipping out. The flushed tip of his cock presses against it, dragging across it as he smears the salty slick, before his release spills suddenly, the first hot spurt hitting your tongue. The rest paints your cheeks, dripping down your chest, and clings to your skin in messy streaks. Zayne watches, his hand gripping your wrist as you stroke him. His cock twitches violently in your grasp, and when your fingers tighten, slick with his precum, it pushes him over the edge. A sharp, choked groan escapes his lips as his hips snap forward, his release spilling over your face and breasts, mingling with Sylus’ mess.

You’re trembling, every inch of your body aching with unfulfilled need. Sylus tilts your face up with two fingers under your jaw, making you to meet his gaze.

“Look at you,” he murmurs. “Fucking perfect.”

Zayne’s fingers brush the corners of your tear-streaked eyes. “She is,” he agrees with a smirk.

You bite your lip as your gaze flicks between them - they’re both still hard, their cocks twitching and glistening.

Zayne moves first – he sits back on the sofa and grabs a large pillow and positions it behind him. Reclining slightly, he leans back against the cushion, his legs spreading as his cock juts upward. His hands reach for you, pulling you toward him, guiding you onto his lap and helping you recline against him. Your back presses against his chest, his warmth melting some of the tension from your muscles. His arms wrap around your waist, anchoring you to him.

“Just relax,” His voice is calm and soothing as his lips brush against the shell of your ear.

Sylus steps closer, his sharp gaze raking over your trembling form, smirk widening as his fingers hook into the waistband of your panties. He drags the soaked fabric down your thighs, exposing your dripping pussy to the cool air.

“Fuck,” Sylus mutters, his eyes burning as he spreads your legs, his grip firm.

Zayne’s hands glide upward, smearing the mess of their release over your chest before his fingers close around your nipples, pinching just enough to make you gasp. Then, his fingers trail downward, leaving a sticky path until they stop just above your needy core. You grab onto his veiny forearms at the first stroke of his fingers over your clit, before his fingers dip lower, gathering your slick before gripping his cock. He presses the tip to your entrance, dragging the length of his shaft through your folds, catching your clit in the motion, making your pussy flutter.

Zayne shifts beneath you, the blunt head of his cock pressing against your entrance before nudging inside. The stretch is immediate, the delicious ache making your breath hitch as he pushes deeper, steadying your hips with firm hands. A raw, breathless moan escapes as he fills you, your head tilting back against his shoulder.

“That’s it.” Zayne whispers in your ear, his grip tightening as he holds you in place.

Every slow thrust presses against your most sensitive spots, each movement tightening the coil in your belly. Sylus watches as his hand wraps around his cock, stroking slowly to match the roll of Zayne’s hips.

“Fuck,” Sylus mutters. “Look at her—dripping down to the base, and you’ve barely started.”

Zayne chuckles softly, his lips brushing your ear as his thrusts grow deeper, each one sinking to the hilt. The intensity builds with each roll of his hips, his cock filling you completely. Your moans grow louder, more desperate, the sound making Sylus’ hand quicken as he strokes himself.

“Are you ready to take me too?” Sylus asks, his voice low and teasing.

Your body freezes momentarily at the question, your pussy clenching around Zayne’s length.

“You… both?” your voice trembles. The idea intrigues you, but you’re hesitant. “I don’t know if I can - I mean – I’m not sure it’ll fit -”

Sylus’ smirk widens. “Oh, it’ll fit,” his voice is almost mocking, “You’ve been so needy tonight. This is what you’ve been begging for, isn’t it?”

Zayne nuzzles against your ear, his lips brushing your skin. “But only if you want it.”

You fall silent, your breath shallow as you process their words.  Sylus’ expression softens, his hand smoothing over your thigh as his gaze meets yours. “You can say no, darling.” he says softly.

Zayne presses a kiss just below your ear. “It’s fine if you don’t want to. You don’t have to take this any further.”

The sudden shift in their demeanor makes your chest tighten and their patience reassures you. You take a second to think. They’d never tried this before—never pushed to see if you could take them both at once. With how thick and long they both are, the idea had always seemed impossible. But tonight, the need is unbearable. You need to feel them—both of them—stretching you, breaking you, until there’s nothing left but the overwhelming sensation of them taking you completely.

You take in a shaky breath, “I want to. I’m ready.”

Zayne’s hands tighten gently around your waist, his lips brushing against your temple. “We’ll take care of you.”

Sylus’ teasing smirk returns. His hand grips his cock, the flushed head pressing against your stuffed entrance. Sylus’ cock nudges forward, catching your clit one, two times as he struggles to push inside. “Relax, sweetheart.” he whispers. Your legs tremble as Sylus presses forward again, the thick head of his cock pushing at your entrance again. A high-pitched whimper escapes you, as Sylus’ cock slips over your clit once more before the head finally begins to ease inside. Sylus moves slowly each inch forcing your body to adjust to the impossible fullness. The tip finally slips fully inside, your walls clamping down tightly around both of them. The sensation is almost too much, your gasps and desperate moans filling the air as your body struggles to adjust to the impossible fullness.

“Shh,” Zayne soothes, as he presses a kiss to your temple. “You’re doing perfectly. Just breathe, my darling.”

Sylus growls, his hand gripping your thighs as he stills. “So tight. Goddamn, Zayne, you’re not leaving much room.”

Zayne chuckles softly, his voice calm but you can feel his muscles tensing. Sylus shifts his hips, his tip stretching you impossibly as he inches deeper. The new fullness is overwhelming, every nerve inside you screaming for more.

“So fucking sensitive,” Zayne teases. “I bet she’ll cum before you’re even halfway there.”

The words make you whimper, your cheeks burning as Sylus pushes further. His hands tighten on your thighs as he finally bottoms out, holding still to let you feel every throbbing inch buried inside you. The maddening stretch of having both of them makes your pussy fluttering around them, pain and pleasure blurring together. Your breath comes in ragged, broken gasps as the tension in your belly coils tighter and tighter, impossibly close to snapping. You try to roll your hips, desperate to chase the climax that is right there, but their strong hands hold you still, denying you the friction you need

“I’m so close - !” you whimper, the desperation spilling from your lips as your head tilts back against Zayne’s shoulder. “I’m gonna—please, I need to—”

Sylus smirks down at you, “Close already?” he taunts. “I haven’t even fucking started yet.”

His hips shift slightly and that is all you need to fall apart, your orgasm crashing over you with devastating force. The tightness of your walls pulls guttural groans from both men, Zayne’s breath hitching against your neck as Sylus growls above you. They hold you steady while your body trembles in the aftermath, shallow gasps leaving your lips.

Sylus’ hand digs into your thigh, the grip bruising as his other hand braces on the backrest. His cock moves with shallow thrusts, the friction making your eyes roll back.

“You’re so sensitive,” Zayne murmurs, his breath warm against your ear. “I can feel you clenching every time he moves.” Sylus’ pace quickens slightly, your moans growing louder as the coil in your belly tightens impossibly fast.

“Already?” Sylus teases, as he watches you writhe.

You don’t even register the question as your orgasm crashes over you. Your walls clench tightly around them both, the overwhelming tightness pulling a groan from Sylus, his hips stuttering briefly, while Zayne sucks in a sharp breath, his fingers tightening on your waist.

But Sylus doesn’t stop. His thrusts deepen, slamming into you, the drag along your oversensitive walls pulling pathetic whimpers as your pussy tightens around him. The slick, maddening friction of their cocks sliding together, every thrust dragging a raw moan from your lips as the stretch pushes you closer to the edge. Your breath catches, your back arching as the coil snaps. Pleasure rips through you, blinding and raw, tears streaking your face. You clench around them tighter, milking them both as the aftershocks crash through you.

Zayne’s breath is hot against your ear, his chest heaving against your back as his cock throbs inside you. The tight clamp of your walls around him has him on the brink, but he holds on as his hand moves downwards from your waist.

“You’ve got one more in you, I can feel it.” he rasps.

His fingers find your swollen clit, the first touch sending a shock through your body, making your hips jerk involuntarily. “Easy,” Zayne soothes, as he presses his fingers firmly against the sensitive spot.

Sylus’ grip on your thigh is bruising as he rams deeper, his eyes locked on yours – watery and heavy-lidded. “You’re milking me—gonna pull me apart.”

Zayne’s breath is hot against your ear, his fingers merciless on your clit, rubbing slick circles that make your hips jerk wildly. “Cum,” he rasps. “Now. Let us feel you, my love.”

Your body obeys - your walls clamp down hard, as you completely lose your voice from the overstimulation. Sylus curses, as your fluttering walls drag him deeper. His cock throbs hard before he cums, his release, hot and thick, floods you as his hips stammer. “Fuck, that’s it,” he growls, his voice breaking. In your fucked out daze you hear Zayne moan in the crook of your neck, as his hips still, burying himself to the hilt, his release hitting in heavy hot waves, mixing with Sylus’, leaving you completely full, dripping, and ruined.

Your chest heaves as you try to catch your breath, your head lolling back against Zayne’s shoulder. His lips press softly against your temple, his hands stroking your waist gently as Sylus leans over, his breaths heavy and uneven. Every inch of you feels hypersensitive, your skin slick with sweat and cum. You’re pulsing in rhythm with your heartbeat, the fullness lingering even as the men stay still, both of them still buried deep inside you.

Sylus’ hand moves from your thigh, his gaze scanning your face. “Breathe for me.” he says, still breathless. His thumb brushes over your cheek, wiping away the stray tears that streaked down your face. You nod weakly, your throat too dry to speak, and you focus on steadying your breath. Sylus smiles softly. “You did so good.”

Zayne’s lips press against your temple again, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “She handled it perfectly. Didn’t you, darling?”

The praise makes your cheeks flush, though you’re still too dazed to say anything. Sylus shifts first, pulling out slowly, the movement making you wince. His hand stays steady on your thigh, stroking softly for a moment before he walks away. Zayne follows a moment later, his withdrawal careful and deliberate. The sudden emptiness pulls a small whimper from your lips before Zayne’s arms tighten around you, holding you firmly against his chest.

“I’ve got you,” he whispers. His hands rub soothing circles over your sides, grounding you as he shifts to sit upright, cradling you in his lap.

Sylus returns quickly with two warm damp cloths. Zayne takes one to clean your face, while Sylus kneels in front of you as he gently wipes away the mess from your thighs and belly.

Zayne murmurs against your temple. “Do you need water? Anything else?”

Your voice is faint, barely above a whisper, as you manage to say, “Just stay… both of you.”

Sylus chuckles softly. “Like we’d go anywhere,” He tosses the cloth aside and sits down on the sofa beside you, while Zayne adjusts his hold, setting you gently to sit in between them and covers your lap with the blanket. The warmth of their bodies, every soothing stroke of their hands, their quiet breaths, soothe you. Though, you can’t relax.

Their care, their unwavering attention, makes the guilt bubble up. Your lips part, but the words catch in your throat. You swallow hard, your fingers clutching the blanket as you glance between them.

You take a shaky breath. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. “For lying to you. For sneaking out.”

Zayne presses a kiss to your shoulder, his voice calm as he replies. “I’m glad you admit your mistake. We need to know where you are to keep you safe.”

Sylus’ nods as he caresses your cheek with the back of his hand. “Exactly. We weren’t mad because you went out. We were upset because you didn’t tell us.”

Tears prick your eyes again, but this time they’re from relief. “I won’t do it again… I promise.”

Zayne smiles softly. “We’ll hold you to that promise.”

You nod, the exhaustion catching up to you as your body sinks further into the sofa, your eyelids heavy. But Sylus doesn’t let you rest – he stands up and takes you hand in his. “We need to wash up.”

You whine. “I don’t want too - I’m too tired.”

Sylus grumbles something before he leans down, grips your waist, and hoists you up over his shoulder. You yelp as you’re suddenly upside down, your protests turning into a mix of laughter and annoyance as you squirm in his hold.

“Sylus!” you laugh, your fists half-heartedly thudding against his back. “Put me down!”

“Not happening,” he replies smugly, his palm landing a playful smack against your bare ass.

Behind you, Zayne shakes his head, a fond smile tugging at his lips as he stands up, going around you two and towards the bathroom. “Take it easy, Sylus. She’s had enough for tonight.”

By the time you’re back in bed, wrapped snugly in fresh blankets, sleep takes you almost instantly, nestled between Sylus and Zayne, with your heart light.

[msnmnt]

In The Afterglow

Notes: this was a request so I hope you like it lovely anon! There’s no real plot, just a tiny bit of smut that leads to fluff and aftercare with Mase. I hope you enjoy. 🥰

Mason gently rocked his hips into you, his steady movements making his cock expertly brush up against your g-spot with every perfect move.

“Mason…” You moaned, lulling your head back into the pillows in an attempt to fight back your orgasm that was threatening to take over so soon after your last.

You had been in a long couple of hours of bliss, often the case when Mason returned home after being away from you for any length of time. He hadn’t been able to keep his hands off you from the moment he walked through the door and you had barely had the chance to ask him how his flight was before he had you hoisted up on the kitchen counter, his hands prying your legs apart and his head soon buried between your legs.

You had lost count of quite how many times Mason had made you cum. With his fingers, his tongue, his cock. The pleasure was truly euphoric, so intense and surreal that it had you feeling like you were having an out of body experience, completely consumed by the pleasure. Mason had barely gave you enough time to recover before he had in another position, soon having you on the brink of another orgasm, wanting nothing more than to please you as much as he could after being separated for so long.

“Yeah, princess?” Mason’s gravely tone right in your ear made you involuntarily clench around him, causing him to fasten the speed of his hips slightly as he tried to get you over the finish line once more before he knew he wouldn’t be able to fight off his high any longer.

He bought his fingers to his mouth, quickly getting them wet with his saliva before slipping his hand between the two of you, attaching them to your overly sensitive clit and rubbing messy circles to the throbbing nub as he struggled to keep his composure.

“Mase, I don’t think, I don’t know if - oh.” Your body went numb under him and your eyes fluttered shut as you felt your felt that familiar feeling creeping up on you once more.

Mason had buried his face in your neck, trying his hardest to focus solely on the movements of his hips and not how warm and wet you felt around him as he desperately tried to make you cum again.

You dragged your nails down his back before digging them into his muscles, so deep you were sure he'd be left with multiple half crescent marks scattered all over him that he would have fun explaining when his teammates would no doubtably tease him in the changing room.

The slight sting of pain went straight to his cock which throbbed inside you, and he let out a husky moan right into your ear.

“Are you gonna come again, huh? Gonna be a good girl and come all over my cock?” In normal circumstances you would've been embarassed at the high pitched noise that you couldn’t help spilling out, but in the moment you couldn't care, locking your legs around his body so he buried himself even deeper inside you which you hadn’t thought was possible.

You struggled to reply, barely muttering out a ‘mhm’ as he completely enveloped your body with his. Your pussy fluttered around his cock as you felt the waves of pleasure jolt through your body, letting your final high of the night overcome you.

Mason quickly moved his face to line up with yours, nose to nose so he could watch your face as he claimed you, finally spilling inside you. A mutter of a string of profanities mixed with your name left his lips as he rode out his high, the build up making his orgasm so intense that he struggled to catch his breath.

He didn’t give himself too long to come down from his high, his cock twitching inside you as it softened and his eyes met your tired ones that you were struggling to keep open.

“Hey, sleepy girl. Don’t fall asleep on me yet, we need to get you all cleaned up first.” Mason’s voice was soft and gentle in your ears, making you feel safe and comfortable as your eyes closed once again.

He begun to scatter soft closed mouth kisses all over your face. Starting at your forehead, making his way down your nose and all over your cheeks, causing a smile to plaster all across your face.

“Going to pull out now.” Mason warned knowing you would be sensitive, waiting for your eyes to look at him to confirm he was okay to continue. “I think that’s the most I’ve ever come.” Mason laughed looking at how wet the sheets were as his cum begun to trickle down from your pussy and down your thighs.

You winced slightly as you attempted to move your body up the bed slightly, a small dull pain between your legs.

Mason shot you a sympathetic look, suddenly feeling a little guilty but you were quick to let him know you were okay.

“You too tired for a shower?”

You shook your head no. Aftercare with Mason was your absolute favourite. All the boys you had been with before would just roll over and go to sleep, or at best you would consider yourself lucky if they chucked some tissue your way to clean yourself up.

But not with Mason.

You were completely dazed and sleepy from your evening of pleasure, but you knew Mason would take care of you.

He offered out his hand which you gladly accepted, letting him guide you over to his en-suite. Mason was quick to switch the shower on to heat up extra hot, how he knew you liked it.

Once he was satisfied the water was warm enough for you, the pair of you got in, facing each other as you let the water cascade down your back for a little while.

“How’re you feeling, sweetheart?” Mason asked, his big brown eyes staring so intensely into yours with nothing but love, care and adoration.

You took a moment to appreciate how beautiful he looked before your eyes shamelessly raked up and down his naked body, taking in every little freckle, every mole, all of him; thinking how lucky you were to have a man as beautiful as him.

You loved the intimacy that came with sharing a shower with Mason, something you knew he also loved, and so when your eyes finally met his once again you weren't surprised with the lovesick look that was on his face.

“I'm good.” You replied, a weak smile on your face as not even the warm water could wake you up properly from your languid state.

“I’ll be quick, okay?” You nodded and Mason lathered up some shower gel in his hands, gently swiping them over your body and cleaning you up. You stood there and let him take care of you as he had done so many times before, inhaling the sweet smells of coconut and vanilla as his hands worked their way over your body in such a tender way.

Once he was done, he quickly soaped up his own body before repositioning the pair of you so the clean water could wash away the shower gel from both of you. Mason’s arms came to wrap around your body, entirely pulling you into him and caging you in. Your bare chest brushed against his and your body erupted in tingles at the feel of his skin against yours. You finally pulled away slightly to look up at him and his heart melted as your sleepy eyes looked into his honey ones, nothing but complete trust for him as he held your naked body as you laid completely vulnerable for him to look after.

“I love you.” It was far from the first time he had said those three words to you, but you were sure you would never lose that feeling as your tummy swarmed with butterflies.

“I love you too, Mase.” You tiptoed slightly to plant a soft kiss onto his lips, letting him know you were so appreciative of how he always looked after you. “So much.”

You stayed there for a little while longer, embracing each other in the warm as you knew the cold was going to be an uncomfortable shock when you stepped out.

Mason’s lips came to leave a kiss on your shoulder before he trailed his way across your collarbone and up your neck, gently pecking at the newly formed purple marks that he had created during your love making session.

“They don’t hurt, do they?” Mason asked, a twinge of guilt in his voice but you were quick to shake your head to put him at ease.

With a final kiss to your lips, Mason turned the shower off, telling you to stay put. He retrieved two fluffy towels from the heated towel rail, carelessly throwing one around his body and tying it at the waist before wrapping you up in the other.

He dried you both off a little as you stood in a comfortable silence.

“Stay here.” Mason pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head before disappearing into his bedroom. You used the time to go to the toilet and it wasn’t long before he returned wearing just a pair of black boxers, holding some of his clean clothes to dress you in.

He knelt to the floor with a pair of boxers out ready for you to step into, waiting for you to step into them before pulling them up your legs. Mason dressed you in one of his shirts, an old training top that he knew was one of your favourites. He carefully grabbed your hair that had been sucked into the shirt, pulling it out and placing it down over your shoulders, softly running his fingers through it which just made you feel more slumbersome.

Mason effortlessly scooped you up in his arms, carrying you back into his bedroom and placing you down on his bed that he had changed to some fresh bedding.

The pair of you climbed into bed and you were quick to snuggle up into Mason’s bare chest. He pulled the duvet up over you too, making sure you were covered and wrapped up by it.

One of his arms came to hold your body to his, and he slipped his other up your top to rest on your bare skin. You couldn’t help but flinch as his fingers grazed over the spot that must’ve now been bruising, the pain jolting through your body.

Mason jumped at your movement.

“S-sorry, just hurts a little from where you held me.” You replied softly, not wanting to upset Mason as you knew he would be angry with himself for hurting you even the slightest bit. “I’m okay, I promise.” You looked up to him in an attempt to offer him a reassuring smile.

Mason wasn’t sure why he felt his cheeks heat up, so he just held you closer to his chest, both his arms now wrapped around you like he never wanted to let you go. Which he didn’t.

“Promise me you’re okay? I can go get some ice-“

“I’m fine.” You interrupted him, so completely comfy and content that you couldn’t deal with the thought of being ripped out from Mason’s arms. “It’s just a little bruise probably, besides I’m sure I did far worse to your back.” The sound of your sweet giggle made Mason settle back down, a small grin appearing of his face as he thought about the scratches that he had caught a glimpse of in the mirror when he returned to the bedroom. He loved how you marked him as yours.

“Are you hungry? Is there anything else I can get you, baby?”

You shook your head, nuzzling it into Mason’s chest, your breath tickling his bare chest as you spoke.

“I’m so sleepy.”

Mason ran his hand down your hair, softly stroking and you hummed contently.

“Get some sleep, princess.” Mason’s voice was just a whisper now as he noticed how your breathing had became steady, and it was clear you were very almost asleep.

“Mason?” Your small voice jolted him a few moments later and he realised he had been drifting off to sleep himself.

“Yes, princess?”

“I love you.”

Mason held you tighter, planting a soft kiss to your forehead. “I love you too, angel.”

[fioredeciliego]

Softly, Sweetly - Winter x Fem!Reader

12.5k words

The morning air in the office was crisp with the scent of fresh coffee and lingering hints of printer toner. Minjeong adjusted her blazer, her sharp eyes scanning the rows of desks as she walked through the bustling corporate floor. It was her first week as the new manager—a title she’d worked tirelessly to earn. Being an alpha in a field where appearances were everything, she’d perfected the art of self-control. Her instincts had no place here.

“Good morning, Manager Kim,” a cheerful voice greeted her. Minjeong nodded with a polite smile, not breaking stride. She kept her expression neutral, her shoulders squared. No one needed to know how tightly wound she felt beneath the surface.

The breakroom door was ajar, and as Minjeong pushed it open, something in the air shifted. Her breath hitched. A scent, warm and delicate, wrapped around her like a comforting embrace. It wasn’t overpowering, but it was unmistakable: vanilla, butter, and the faintest hint of lavender. Her instincts stirred before she could stop them, her wolf perking up like it had just found something—someone—important.

Minjeong froze mid-step, her eyes scanning the room. A tray of cookies sat on the counter, golden and fresh, a few crumbs scattered around it. She frowned slightly, glancing at the lone figure sitting at the small table in the corner.

You.

Your head was bent over a book, a steaming cup of tea beside you. You looked so at ease, oblivious to the chaos of the office just outside the door. The moment felt oddly intimate, as though Minjeong had stepped into a scene she wasn’t meant to disturb. Her wolf growled softly in approval, a low hum of recognition.

She shook her head, forcing herself to move. Minjeong was here to grab a coffee, not to—…whatever this was.

“Good morning,” she said, her voice even. You looked up, startled, your eyes meeting hers. For a moment, Minjeong forgot how to breathe.

“Oh, good morning,” you replied, offering a shy smile. “You must be the new manager. Minjeong, right?”

Hearing her name in your voice made something in her chest tighten. She gave a curt nod. “That’s right. And you are?”

“Y/N,” you said, setting your book down. “I work in marketing. I, um, bake cookies for the team on Fridays. I hope that’s okay?”

Minjeong blinked. You thought she might disapprove? She glanced at the tray again, her fingers twitching with the urge to grab one. “It’s… nice. I’m sure the team appreciates it.”

Your smile widened slightly, and Minjeong felt her heartbeat quicken. She hated how her composure wavered under your gaze, like you could see right through the layers she’d carefully built around herself.

“Would you like one?” you offered, gesturing to the cookies.

Minjeong hesitated. Something about the idea of taking one felt too personal, but the way your eyes sparkled with anticipation made it impossible to refuse.

“Sure,” she said, stepping closer. She picked one up, the warm cookie soft against her fingertips. She bit into it, and the taste was as comforting as the scent that lingered in the room.

“It’s good,” she said after a moment, keeping her tone neutral.

“Thank you,” you said softly. There was a flicker of something in your expression, something almost… hopeful. Minjeong quickly looked away, busying herself with pouring a cup of coffee.

“Do you bake often?” she asked, more to fill the silence than out of genuine curiosity.

“Pretty often,” you said, shrugging lightly. “It’s kind of my way of relaxing. Helps me feel grounded, you know?”

Minjeong wouldn’t know. Relaxation wasn’t something she indulged in. But she nodded anyway, sipping her coffee. The warmth didn’t quite reach the tightness in her chest.

She lingered longer than she intended, watching as you returned to your book, completely at ease. The contrast between your serenity and her constant self-discipline was almost jarring. But it was the scent that stayed with her long after she left the breakroom, weaving itself into her thoughts and refusing to let go.

--

By the end of the day, Minjeong was mentally exhausted. Meetings, presentations, and the constant effort to keep her instincts in check had drained her more than usual. As she gathered her things, her thoughts drifted back to you. To the way your scent had wrapped around her like a protective cocoon.

It wasn’t just pleasant. It was calming in a way that nothing else had been in years. She hated how much she craved it already, how the memory of it lingered on the edge of her consciousness. It wasn’t normal. It wasn’t professional.

“Manager Kim?” a voice interrupted her thoughts. She turned to see one of her coworkers standing hesitantly by her desk.

“Yes?” she asked, straightening up.

“Just wanted to say thanks for joining us today. I know it’s been a busy week for you,” they said.

Minjeong gave a polite smile. “Thank you. Have a good evening.”

As the office emptied out, she found herself standing alone, staring at the breakroom door. The faintest hint of your scent still lingered, teasing her senses. She shook her head, forcing herself to leave.

--

At home, Minjeong dropped her bag by the door and sank onto the couch. She stared at the ceiling, her mind racing. She’d worked so hard to suppress her instincts, to present herself as an alpha who could be trusted in any situation. But you… you had cracked something open in her with just a smile and a tray of cookies.

Her phone buzzed, pulling her out of her thoughts. It was a text from her assistant, reminding her about a team lunch next week.

She sighed, tossing her phone onto the coffee table. As much as she wanted to deny it, she knew one thing for certain: this wasn’t the last time you’d be on her mind.

Minjeong prided herself on her ability to remain composed in any situation. Meetings, deadlines, and even high-stakes negotiations barely fazed her. But now, as she sat in a mid-morning conference room, facing a dozen employees, her calm exterior was slipping.

She stole a glance toward you, seated across the table. You were scribbling notes in your planner, a small smile tugging at your lips. That scent—a warm mix of vanilla and sugar—was still faint in the air, and Minjeong was losing her grip on rational thought. It wasn’t overpowering, but it lingered in the corners of her mind, making her restless in a way she hadn’t felt in years.

“Minjeong, what do you think?” someone asked, snapping her back to the present.

She blinked, realizing that everyone was staring at her, waiting for a response. “I, uh… Yes. Of course.” She cleared her throat and straightened in her seat. “Could you repeat the question?”

There was a murmur of suppressed laughter around the table. Minjeong’s second-in-command smirked but repeated the inquiry about projected timelines. She nodded briskly, giving an efficient, if generic, response that seemed to satisfy the room. When the meeting resumed, she glanced at you again. You were grinning now, but it was subtle, almost hidden behind the tilt of your notebook. Did you know you were driving her to distraction?

By the time the meeting wrapped up, Minjeong was on edge. Everyone filed out, but she lingered, pretending to tidy her papers. Her heart sank when she realized you were still at the table, reorganizing your planner. Alone with you, she felt the tension in her chest tighten.

She couldn’t just sit in silence. Say something—anything, she told herself.

“The cookies,” she blurted out, louder than intended.

You looked up, startled. “Pardon?”

“Your cookies. I mean, the ones you bring every Friday,” Minjeong stammered, feeling her cheeks heat. “They’re really… nice.”

You blinked, and then—to her simultaneous relief and mortification—you burst into laughter. It wasn’t mocking, though; it was light and genuinely amused. “Nice?”

“What I meant,” Minjeong said, quickly backpedaling, “is that they’re good. Great, actually. Really great. Everyone likes them.”

You tilted your head, your laughter fading into a warm smile. “Thank you, Minjeong. I’m glad you like them.”

“I…” she hesitated, unsure of how to salvage the moment, “I’m not just saying that because of the… cookies.”

Now it was your turn to look confused. “You’re not?”

“I mean, I am saying it because of the cookies, but also because you…” She trailed off, realizing she had no idea where she was going with this. Her internal monologue was screaming for her to stop talking.

“Because I what?” you prompted, resting your chin on your hand, clearly enjoying her awkwardness.

“Because you… seem to put so much care into them,” she finished lamely.

You raised an eyebrow but didn’t push further. Instead, you closed your planner and stood, your warm scent enveloping her as you passed by. “Thank you, Minjeong. That means a lot.”

She watched you leave, feeling both relieved and utterly defeated. Great job, Minjeong, she thought bitterly. You’ve officially forgotten how to talk like a normal person.

--

The rest of the day didn’t go any better. Minjeong found herself distracted during her afternoon meetings, her mind replaying your smile and the way you’d looked at her in the conference room. By the time her last meeting ended, she was ready to call it a day. She was gathering her things when she heard a soft knock on her office door.

“Come in,” she called, forcing herself to sound professional.

The door creaked open, and there you were again, holding a small container. Her heart rate spiked.

“Hey,” you said, stepping inside. “I had some extra cookies left over. Thought you might want some.”

Minjeong blinked at you, momentarily stunned. “Oh. Uh, thank you.” She stepped forward to take the container from your hands, careful not to let your fingers touch.

“Don’t worry,” you teased, leaning against the doorframe. “I’m not bribing you for a promotion or anything.”

She managed a chuckle, relaxing slightly. “Good to know. I’m not sure my integrity could survive that kind of scandal.”

You grinned and glanced at your watch. “Well, I should get going. Have a good evening, Minjeong.”

“You too,” she replied automatically, watching as you disappeared down the hall.

When she opened the container, the scent hit her like a tidal wave—comforting and intoxicating all at once. The cookies were still warm, their edges golden and crisp. She picked one up, taking a bite. Perfect, of course.

--

Later that night, Minjeong sat in her apartment, the empty container resting on her coffee table. She’d polished off the cookies in record time and now found herself staring at the ceiling, replaying every moment she’d spent with you that day.

“You’re losing it,” she muttered to herself, rubbing her temples. But despite her frustration, she couldn’t help but smile. Maybe she’d been awkward today, but it didn’t seem to matter. For the first time in years, she felt something other than restraint.

Minjeong dropped her bag on the floor and shrugged off her blazer, letting out a heavy sigh. The day had been relentless—back-to-back meetings, demanding deadlines, and an inbox that seemed to multiply the moment she glanced away. Her head throbbed, and her shoulders ached from the tension she’d been carrying all day.

She moved toward the couch, loosening her tie and unbuttoning the top of her blouse. As she sat down, something soft and familiar brushed against her fingers. Her scarf. She frowned slightly, picking it up from where it had been draped over her bag. She hadn’t even realized she’d brought it home; she usually left it in her office during warmer months.

Bringing it closer, she froze. That scent. Subtle yet unmistakable—a warm blend of vanilla and sugar. It wasn’t just the fabric softener or any lingering fragrance from her office. No, this was your scent, the one that always lingered faintly when you walked by her or leaned just a little too close while passing her papers in a meeting.

Minjeong’s grip on the scarf tightened as she inhaled again, slower this time. The tension in her body seemed to ease, her mind quieting in a way it hadn’t all day. The calming effect was almost immediate, as if the stress that had piled up over the hours was being gently swept away.

She leaned back against the cushions, holding the scarf against her chest. It wasn’t intentional at first, just a subconscious reaction to the comfort it provided. Her thoughts drifted to you—the way your laughter lit up the office, the delicate smile you gave her whenever she passed by your desk. And, of course, the cookies. Those damn cookies.

The realization hit her like a jolt: she was craving this. Craving you. Not just your scent, but the sense of peace you brought with it. It wasn’t something she’d consciously acknowledged before, but now that she’d felt it, there was no denying it. You had somehow become her haven in the chaos of her daily life.

She closed her eyes, letting herself bask in the quiet moment. Her alpha instincts stirred faintly, a protective warmth blooming in her chest at the thought of you. It wasn’t overwhelming, not the way she’d been taught to fear growing up. Instead, it was grounding, like a steady pulse reminding her of something she hadn’t realized she was missing.

Minutes turned into an hour as she stayed there, holding the scarf. Her apartment, usually too quiet after a long day, felt less lonely now. But with that comfort came another emotion: guilt. She shouldn’t be clinging to this scarf like some lovesick teenager. You deserved better than to be the object of someone’s selfish yearning, especially when she hadn’t even mustered the courage to tell you how she felt.

Minjeong’s eyes fluttered open, and she set the scarf down gently on the couch beside her. She needed to get a grip. This wasn’t fair to you or to herself. Still, as she stood and moved to the kitchen to prepare a late dinner, she couldn’t help but glance back at the scarf.

--

That night, as she lay in bed, the memory of your scent lingered. Minjeong’s mind wandered to what it might be like to have you close, not just in the abstract sense but here, in her space. She imagined you sitting on her couch, sharing a laugh about something trivial. She imagined brushing flour off your cheek after a baking session, your laughter soft and sweet as she teased you for being messy. The thought brought a warmth to her chest that she hadn’t felt in years.

Her hand drifted to her phone on the nightstand. For a brief moment, she considered messaging you. Something casual, something that wouldn’t betray the flurry of emotions she was feeling. But what would she even say? “Hey, your cookies are great, and your scent calms my overworked alpha instincts”? Yeah, no. That wasn’t happening.

Instead, she sighed and placed the phone back down. Tomorrow. Maybe tomorrow she’d find the courage to say something—anything—to let you know how much you meant to her. For now, she closed her eyes and let the memory of your scent lull her to sleep.

--

The next morning, as Minjeong got ready for work, she hesitated before leaving her apartment. Her eyes fell on the scarf, still draped over the couch where she’d left it. She debated bringing it back with her, but something held her back. It felt too personal now, too intimate to casually return to the office.

With a small sigh, she grabbed her bag and headed out the door. The scent might not have been with her anymore, but the sense of calm it had given her lingered, a quiet reminder of the comfort she’d found—and the feelings she couldn’t ignore any longer.

The office was unusually quiet that evening, the hum of fluorescent lights the only sound accompanying Minjeong as she reviewed a spreadsheet in her dimly lit office. Most employees had left hours ago, leaving the building in an almost eerie state of calm. She liked it this way—no distractions, no small talk, just the numbers and her thoughts.

But as she stepped out of her office to grab a file from the printer, she caught sight of a light still on in the breakroom. Her brow furrowed. The breakroom was supposed to be locked after hours. Curiosity got the better of her, and she made her way over, her heels clicking softly against the polished floor.

Pushing the door open, Minjeong froze. There you were, sitting cross-legged at one of the round tables with a laptop open in front of you. Your brow was furrowed in concentration, a pen twirling absently between your fingers. Beside you sat a small plate of cookies—of course—and an empty mug with faint coffee stains.

“Y/N?” Minjeong’s voice came out softer than she intended, but it still startled you. You looked up, eyes wide for a moment before a smile spread across your face.

“Oh, hi, Minjeong. Didn’t expect anyone else to be here this late.”

She stepped inside, her curiosity piqued. “I could say the same about you. What are you working on?”

You gestured to your laptop. “The quarterly report for the marketing department. I wanted to get a head start since things are going to get hectic next week.”

Minjeong nodded, impressed but not surprised. You’d always struck her as someone who went the extra mile, though she couldn’t help but notice the faint circles under your eyes. “You could’ve done this tomorrow. Staying late isn’t mandatory, you know.”

You shrugged, your smile turning sheepish. “I know. But I work better when it’s quiet. Plus, it’s… nice to have some time to myself.”

There was a weight to your words that Minjeong couldn’t quite place, but she decided not to push. Instead, she glanced at the plate of cookies. “Did you make those here?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “No, I brought them from home. Baking’s kind of my thing. Want one?”

She hesitated, then nodded. “Sure.”

You slid the plate toward her, and she picked up one of the cookies. It was warm and soft, melting on her tongue with a burst of buttery sweetness. She couldn’t suppress the small sound of approval that escaped her.

You grinned. “Good?”

“Better than good,” Minjeong admitted, setting the half-eaten cookie down. “I think these are your best yet.”

“High praise from the boss,” you teased, leaning back in your chair. “But yeah, baking helps me unwind. Keeps my hands busy and my mind clear.”

Minjeong leaned against the counter, intrigued. “So it’s more than just a hobby?”

You nodded, your expression turning thoughtful. “Yeah. Living in the city can be overwhelming sometimes, especially for an omega. Baking’s like… my way of staying grounded. The scents, the textures, the routine of it—it’s comforting. Familiar.”

Her heart softened at your candidness. She’d never really thought about how challenging it might be for you, navigating a high-stakes corporate environment while balancing your instincts. “That makes sense. It’s important to have something like that. A safe space.”

“What about you?” you asked suddenly, tilting your head. “What keeps you grounded?”

Minjeong blinked, caught off guard. No one had ever asked her that before. She crossed her arms, considering the question. “Honestly? I… don’t know. I’ve always just focused on work. It’s what I’m good at.”

You frowned slightly. “That sounds… exhausting.”

She shrugged, trying to play it off. “It has its moments. But it’s not so bad. I’ve gotten used to it.”

Your frown deepened, but you didn’t press the issue. Instead, you reached for another cookie, breaking it in half and offering her a piece. “Well, maybe you need to find something that makes you happy outside of work. Everyone needs a little sweetness in their life, right?”

Minjeong took the offered cookie, her lips twitching into a small smile. “Maybe you’re right.”

For a while, the two of you sat in companionable silence, the tension of the day melting away. Minjeong found herself relaxing in your presence, the usual weight of her responsibilities feeling just a little lighter. She didn’t even realize how much time had passed until you stretched and yawned, glancing at the clock.

“Wow, it’s already past ten,” you said, rubbing your eyes. “I should probably head home.”

Minjeong stood, her protective instincts kicking in. “Let me walk you to your car. It’s late.”

You looked surprised but didn’t argue. “Alright. Thanks, Minjeong.”

As the two of you made your way to the parking lot, the cool night air hit your faces, refreshing after the stuffiness of the office. Minjeong stayed close, her sharp senses on alert for any potential danger. When you reached your car, you turned to her with a grateful smile.

“Thanks for keeping me company tonight. It was… nice to talk.”

“It was,” Minjeong agreed, her voice soft. “Drive safe, Y/N.”

You gave her a small wave before getting into your car and driving off, leaving her standing there under the dim glow of the parking lot lights. As she watched your taillights disappear into the distance, she felt a strange warmth in her chest—a flicker of something she couldn’t quite name.

Maybe, she thought as she made her way back inside, it was time she found her own version of sweetness. And maybe, just maybe, it was closer than she’d realized.

The hum of the office carried on as usual, phones ringing intermittently, keyboards clacking away, and the soft murmur of conversations filling the air. Minjeong sat at her desk, head bent over a report she had been reviewing for the past half hour. Her concentration was only half-hearted, though. Every so often, her eyes drifted toward the far side of the room where you sat, completely engrossed in your work.

It wasn’t unusual for Minjeong to find herself distracted by you these days. Your presence had a way of grounding her yet simultaneously throwing her off balance. It wasn’t just your calming scent—though that was a major factor—it was the way you carried yourself, your quiet confidence, and the little smiles you shared with everyone. She knew she needed to get a grip, but you made it incredibly difficult.

“Minjeong…” a voice interrupted her thoughts. She looked up to find her second-in-command, Jihoon, standing by her desk with a knowing smirk. “Staring at Y/N again?” he teased, just loud enough for a few nearby coworkers to hear.

Minjeong’s eyes widened, and she immediately straightened in her chair. “I was not staring,” she replied defensively, her tone sharp enough to make Jihoon chuckle.

“Sure, boss. Whatever you say.” He leaned on the edge of her desk, clearly enjoying her discomfort. “But you know, if you keep looking at her like that, people are going to start talking.”

“They’re not already?” another coworker, Soojin, piped up from a nearby cubicle. She swiveled her chair to face them, her grin mischievous. “Minjeong practically turns red every time Y/N’s around.”

Minjeong’s ears burned as she glared at Soojin. “I do not. And for the record, can we focus on work instead of pointless gossip?”

Jihoon raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. “It’s not gossip if it’s true.”

Minjeong groaned, running a hand through her hair. “This is completely unprofessional.”

“Oh, come on,” Soojin said, rolling her eyes. “We’re just teasing you, Minjeong. Lighten up. Besides, Y/N’s sweet. If I were you, I wouldn’t deny it so hard.”

“There’s nothing to deny,” Minjeong insisted, but her words lacked conviction. Her traitorous cheeks were already giving her away, flushing a faint pink that made Jihoon and Soojin exchange amused glances.

From across the room, you glanced up, sensing the commotion. Your gaze landed on Minjeong, and for a split second, your eyes met. The moment stretched longer than it should have, and Minjeong felt her pulse quicken. You smiled softly, tilting your head in curiosity at the group gathered near her desk. Then, you went back to your work, leaving Minjeong to deal with the aftermath of her coworkers’ relentless teasing.

“See?” Soojin said triumphantly. “She’s got you flustered already.”

“I’m not flustered,” Minjeong hissed, though the way she avoided their eyes told a different story.

“Alright, alright,” Jihoon said, holding up his hands in surrender. “We’ll drop it… for now.”

Minjeong shot him a glare before turning back to her report, determined to ignore the growing heat in her cheeks. But even as she tried to focus, she couldn’t shake the memory of your smile or the way her heart had stuttered when your eyes met.

--

By lunchtime, the teasing hadn’t entirely subsided. Minjeong was walking to the break room when she overheard a pair of interns whispering near the coffee machine.

“Do you think Minjeong likes Y/N?” one of them asked, not bothering to lower their voice much.

“Oh, definitely,” the other replied. “She’s always looking at her during meetings. It’s so obvious.”

Minjeong cleared her throat loudly, and the interns jumped, spinning around to face her with wide eyes.

“Ladies,” she said coolly, “I suggest you find something productive to do.”

“Yes, ma’am,” they chorused before scurrying out of the break room.

Minjeong sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. This was getting out of hand. She grabbed a cup of coffee and leaned against the counter, taking a moment to collect herself. The break room door swung open, and she tensed, expecting another nosy coworker. Instead, it was you.

“Hey, Minjeong,” you greeted, your smile as warm as ever. “Taking a breather?”

She nodded stiffly. “Something like that.”

You moved to the coffee machine, humming softly as you prepared your drink. Minjeong watched out of the corner of her eye, silently berating herself for not saying something. Anything.

“So,” you said casually, breaking the silence. “What’s everyone talking about today? I feel like I missed something.”

Minjeong’s heart skipped a beat. “Nothing important,” she said quickly, perhaps too quickly.

You glanced at her, amused. “Are you sure? You’ve been looking a little… distracted.”

“I’m not distracted,” she insisted, though the defensive edge in her voice probably undermined her claim.

You chuckled softly, stirring your coffee. “If you say so.”

She opened her mouth to respond but closed it again, realizing she’d only dig herself deeper. Instead, she focused on sipping her own coffee, hoping the heat from the drink would explain the flush in her cheeks.

“Well,” you said, turning to leave, “if you ever want to talk about whatever’s distracting you, I’m a pretty good listener.”

Minjeong nodded mutely, watching as you walked away, your scent lingering in the air long after you’d gone. She set her coffee down and leaned against the counter, letting out a long, exasperated sigh.

Maybe… just maybe… her coworkers had a point.

The office buzzed with its usual energy as the day wound down, employees shuffling papers and exchanging pleasantries on their way out. Minjeong leaned against the doorway of her office, watching the scene unfold. Her sharp gaze scanned the room until it landed on you. You were at your desk, head tilted as you listened politely to one of the marketing associates—a man who was leaning in a little too close for comfort.

Minjeong frowned, her instincts prickling at the sight. She told herself to stay calm, that there was no reason to interfere, but the feeling gnawed at her as the moments dragged on.

“You’re always so cheerful,” the man’s voice carried across the open floor. “How do you manage it? Must be all those cookies you bake for us.”

You chuckled politely but shifted back in your chair, creating a subtle distance. “I just enjoy baking. It’s a good way to unwind.”

“Well, maybe you can bake something just for me sometime,” he pressed, his tone too familiar. The insinuation in his voice made Minjeong’s jaw tighten.

She took a deep breath, trying to shake off the simmering protectiveness rising in her chest. It wasn’t her place to intervene. You were capable of handling yourself, and she didn’t want to overstep. But when he moved even closer, leaning over your desk with a hand braced on the edge, her restraint snapped.

“Come on,” he said, his voice dropping slightly. “It’s not like it’s a big deal.”

You hesitated, your polite smile faltering. “I… really don’t think—”

“Y/N, can I borrow you for a moment?” Minjeong’s voice cut through the tension like a knife. Her steps were deliberate, her posture calm but radiating authority as she approached.

Your head whipped toward her, relief flashing across your face. “Of course.”

The man straightened, clearly annoyed. “Oh, we were just chatting. No rush.”

“Actually, it’s time-sensitive,” Minjeong said, her tone polite but firm. Her eyes locked onto his, unwavering. “If you’ll excuse us.”

Her presence left no room for argument. The man hesitated, his jaw tightening, but he eventually stepped back. You gathered your things quickly, and Minjeong’s hand lightly brushed your elbow as she guided you toward her office. Once the door clicked shut behind you, you let out a shaky breath.

“Thank you,” you said, turning to face her. “I… didn’t know how to get out of that conversation.”

Minjeong leaned against her desk, crossing her arms. “He’s always like that?”

“Not always,” you admitted, rubbing the back of your neck. “But he can be… persistent. I try to brush it off.”

Her eyes narrowed, and the protective instinct she’d been holding back flared again. “You shouldn’t have to. If he ever makes you uncomfortable, let me know.”

You raised an eyebrow, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Are you… protecting me, Manager Kim?”

Minjeong stiffened, realizing how her words might have sounded. She cleared her throat, straightening her posture. “I’m just ensuring a safe and professional work environment,” she replied, though the faint pink tinge on her ears betrayed her.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly at her attempt to maintain professionalism. “Well, thank you. I appreciate it.”

“Good,” Minjeong said, trying to recover her composure. She glanced at the clock on her desk. “It’s late. You should head home.”

You hesitated. “Are you staying late?”

“Just finishing some reports,” she said, brushing off the question.

You tilted your head, studying her for a moment. “Don’t overwork yourself. Even managers need rest.”

Her lips quirked into a small smile. “Noted.”

Satisfied, you gave her a cheerful wave and headed out, leaving her alone in the quiet office. Minjeong sighed, running a hand through her hair. The lingering trace of your scent in the room calmed her, even as her thoughts raced.

--

The next day, whispers rippled through the office. Minjeong’s intervention hadn’t gone unnoticed, and it didn’t take long for the gossip to reach your ears.

“Did you see how Manager Kim handled that guy yesterday?” one coworker said, leaning over the partition of a cubicle.

“She’s so cool,” another agreed. “Didn’t even raise her voice, but he backed off so fast.”

You tried to focus on your work, but the murmurs made you smile. Minjeong’s actions had been subtle yet effective—a balance of authority and care that you couldn’t help but admire.

Later that afternoon, you found yourself standing outside her office with a small box of cookies in hand. You knocked lightly on the doorframe, peeking inside. Minjeong looked up from her desk, her expression softening when she saw you.

“Hi,” you said, stepping inside. “I wanted to say thank you again for yesterday.”

“No need to thank me,” she replied, setting down her pen. “I just did what anyone would do.”

“Not everyone would have stepped in so gracefully,” you said, placing the box on her desk. “I made these for you. As a thank you.”

Her eyes widened slightly as she opened the box, the familiar scent of your baking filling the room. “You didn’t have to do this,” she said, though the small smile on her lips betrayed her gratitude.

“Consider it a token of appreciation,” you said, your tone teasing.

Minjeong chuckled, picking up a cookie and taking a bite. As the sweet flavor melted on her tongue, she looked up at you, her gaze warm. “You know, these might be your best batch yet.”

You grinned. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

As you turned to leave, she found herself wondering how long she could keep her feelings in check—and if she even wanted to.

When the door closed behind you, she leaned back in her chair, the taste of your cookies and the sound of your laughter staying with her long after you were gone.

The soft hum of music filled your cozy kitchen as the late afternoon sun streamed through the windows, casting a golden glow over the countertop. Minjeong stood at the edge of the counter, eyeing the array of baking ingredients with a look that could only be described as apprehensive.

“So, this is where the magic happens,” Minjeong said, her hands resting awkwardly on her hips. Her confidence, so steady in the corporate world, seemed to falter in the face of flour and sugar.

“Magic might be a stretch,” you teased, tying an apron around your waist. “But baking is supposed to be fun. Relaxing, even. So don’t overthink it.”

“Relaxing,” Minjeong repeated, as though testing the word on her tongue. She picked up a measuring cup and examined it like it was a foreign object. “Right. Relaxing.”

--

The idea for the lesson had come up earlier that week. Minjeong had been unusually tense during a meeting, her alpha instincts likely strained by the pressures of the job. Hoping to lighten the mood, you’d casually mentioned your baking hobby.

“If you ever want to relax, you should join me sometime,” you’d said. “Baking cookies works wonders.”

She’d looked at you, her expression skeptical but intrigued. “You think I’d be good at baking?”

“Not at first,” you admitted with a grin, “but it’s about the journey, not perfection. Besides, it’s fun to try something new.”

To your surprise, she’d taken you up on the offer, showing up at your apartment that evening with an apron she’d clearly borrowed from someone else. It was light pink with frilly edges, entirely at odds with her usual serious demeanor.

“You’re really committed to this, huh?” you teased when you saw her at the door.

“Don’t make me regret this,” she’d muttered, her cheeks tinged with color as she stepped inside.

--

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “You’re going to be fine. Just follow my lead.”

Minjeong exhaled, rolling up her sleeves with dramatic determination. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

“First step,” you began, pointing to the flour, “measure out two cups of flour and sift it into the bowl.”

She nodded seriously, grabbing the bag of flour. With one strong motion, she tipped it over the measuring cup. A white cloud puffed up instantly, coating her hands and the counter in a fine layer of flour. Minjeong froze, her eyes wide.

“Well, that’s one way to do it,” you said, biting back a laugh as you grabbed a dishcloth to clean up the excess.

“Why does it get everywhere?” she muttered, glaring at the flour as though it had personally wronged her.

“It’s part of the process,” you said, smiling. “Baking is messy, but that’s what makes it fun.”

Minjeong didn’t look convinced, but she carefully measured out the flour again, this time with exaggerated precision. You handed her the sifter, and she hesitated before shaking it over the bowl. When a fine, snowy stream of flour fell neatly into place, she brightened visibly.

“See? You’re a natural,” you said encouragingly.

She gave you a skeptical look but allowed a small smile to tug at her lips. “What’s next?”

“Next, we add the baking powder and salt.” You gestured to the small bowls of pre-measured ingredients. “Just toss them in.”

This part went smoothly, and Minjeong seemed to regain a bit of confidence. That is, until you handed her the mixing spoon.

“Okay, now we cream the butter and sugar together,” you instructed. “It’s all about getting the texture just right.”

Minjeong eyed the bowl of softened butter suspiciously. “This doesn’t look right to me already.”

“It’ll look better when you mix it,” you assured her.

She dipped the spoon into the bowl and began stirring with what could only be described as excessive enthusiasm. Butter and sugar flew out of the bowl, splattering onto the counter and her shirt. You couldn’t hold back your laughter any longer.

“Minjeong, stop! You’re going to redecorate my kitchen at this rate,” you said, clutching your stomach.

She paused, her face a mixture of embarrassment and determination. “I thought you said baking was relaxing!”

“It is,” you said, wiping a tear from your eye. “For people who aren’t trying to stir like they’re fighting for their lives.”

Minjeong groaned but started laughing along with you. “I’m hopeless, aren’t I?”

“Not hopeless,” you said, moving closer to take the spoon from her. “Just… enthusiastic. Here, let me show you.”

Your hands brushed against hers as you guided the spoon, and Minjeong’s breath hitched slightly. The moment lingered just a second too long before she cleared her throat and stepped back, letting you take over. Her ears were tinted pink, but she tried to focus on your demonstration.

“See? Gentle but consistent,” you said, glancing at her with a smile. “You’ll get the hang of it.”

Minjeong watched you work, her gaze softening. There was something about the way you moved—so at ease in this environment—that made her chest tighten. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d laughed so freely, or felt this at peace.

“Your turn,” you said, handing the spoon back to her.

This time, Minjeong took her time, carefully folding the ingredients together. The butter and sugar began to blend into a creamy mixture, and she shot you a triumphant look.

“I did it!” she said, grinning.

“See? I told you you’d be fine,” you said, nudging her playfully.

The rest of the process went more smoothly, though there were still a few hiccups—like when Minjeong accidentally cracked an egg too hard and had to fish out the shell, or when she forgot to set the timer for the cookies and nearly burned the first batch. But each mistake was met with laughter, and by the end of the evening, the kitchen smelled like warm vanilla and chocolate.

As the two of you sat at the table, sharing the fruits of your labor, you noticed how Minjeong’s shoulders seemed more relaxed, her usual corporate stiffness replaced by a quiet contentment.

“You know,” she said, breaking the comfortable silence, “I don’t think I’ve laughed this much in years.”

“That’s the power of baking,” you said with a smile. “And maybe the company helped a little, too.”

Minjeong’s gaze met yours, and for a moment, the world outside your small kitchen seemed to fade away. She reached for another cookie, but her hand brushed yours instead, making both of you freeze.

“Sorry,” she murmured, pulling back quickly.

“It’s okay,” you said softly, your cheeks warm. The air between you felt charged, but neither of you dared to break the spell.

Eventually, Minjeong cleared her throat and stood, gathering the plates. “I should probably get going. It’s getting late.”

“Yeah,” you said, standing as well. “Thanks for… you know, being a good sport about all this.”

She chuckled, brushing flour off her shirt. “Thanks for not giving up on me after the… butter incident.”

As she walked to the door, she hesitated, turning back to look at you. “I… I had a really good time tonight. Thank you.”

“Me too,” you said, your smile genuine. “Maybe next time we’ll try something easier. Like cupcakes.”

Minjeong laughed, the sound warm and genuine. “I’ll hold you to that.”

You sighed as you stood at the office entrance, peering out at the relentless downpour. Of course, today of all days, your car was in the shop for maintenance.

“Looks like you’re stuck,” a familiar voice said behind you. Turning, you saw Minjeong, dressed impeccably in her usual business attire, holding a large black umbrella in one hand and her bag in the other. Her sharp eyes softened as they landed on your slightly disheveled figure.

“Yeah,” you said, laughing awkwardly. “Guess I didn’t plan for this.”

Minjeong tilted her head, her lips curving into a small smile. “Your car’s still at the shop, right?”

You nodded, surprised she remembered. “Yeah, it’s been a pain this week.”

“Come on,” she said, already reaching into her bag for her keys. “I’ll drive you home. No sense in getting drenched.”

Your eyes widened. “Oh, no, you don’t have to—”

“I insist,” she interrupted gently. “It’s not out of my way. Besides, you’ll owe me one.”

You hesitated, glancing back out at the rain. It was falling harder now, and you really didn’t want to ruin your clothes—or catch a cold. With a sigh of resignation, you nodded. “Okay. Thank you, Minjeong.”

She smiled, leading you to her sleek black car parked nearby. The rain intensified as you reached it, and she quickly opened the passenger door for you before darting around to the driver’s side. Once inside, the warmth of the car was a welcome contrast to the chilly storm outside.

Minjeong started the engine, the soft purr filling the enclosed space as she adjusted the heater. “Comfortable?” she asked, glancing at you.

“Yeah, thanks,” you said, buckling your seatbelt. “This is really nice of you.”

She shrugged, a small smile playing on her lips. “Consider it part of my duties as your manager.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “I didn’t realize driving employees home was in your job description.”

“Only for special cases,” she teased, pulling out onto the rain-slicked streets.

The streets were quieter than usual, most people having already sought shelter from the rain. The rhythmic swish of the windshield wipers and the soft hum of the car’s engine filled the silence between you. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, though; there was something peaceful about sitting beside Minjeong, the world outside muted by the storm.

“It’s rare to see rain like this in the city,” you commented after a while, your voice breaking the stillness.

Minjeong glanced at you, her eyes warm. “It is. But I don’t mind it. There’s something calming about it, don’t you think?”

You smiled. “I guess so. As long as I’m not caught in it without a ride.”

She chuckled softly, her laughter low and melodic. “Fair enough.”

For a moment, the two of you sat in silence again, the rain forming a soothing backdrop. Then Minjeong’s voice broke through, quieter this time. “You know, it’s… nice. Spending time like this.”

You glanced at her, surprised by the vulnerability in her tone. “Yeah, it is,” you agreed softly. “I guess we’ve both been so busy that it’s hard to just… slow down.”

She nodded, her eyes fixed on the road ahead. “That’s the city for you. Everyone’s always moving, always rushing to the next thing. Sometimes I feel like I’m running just to keep up.”

Her words struck a chord, and you found yourself nodding. “I know what you mean. It’s easy to get lost in the chaos.”

Minjeong’s grip on the steering wheel tightened slightly, her knuckles paling. “It’s harder when you’re… different.”

You turned to look at her, noticing the tension in her jaw. “Different how?”

She hesitated for a moment before exhaling slowly, her breath visible in the cool air. “Being an alpha in a place like this… it’s not easy. There’s so much expectation, so much pressure to… control everything. To suppress instincts, to fit into this mold of what’s ‘acceptable.’”

Her confession caught you off guard. Minjeong always seemed so composed, so in control. Hearing her admit to struggling with her alpha nature made her feel more… human.

“I’ve always wondered about that,” you admitted. “How you manage to stay so calm and professional all the time.”

Minjeong gave a small, rueful laugh. “It’s a balancing act. Most people don’t realize how much energy it takes. How much I… how much I’ve had to suppress to keep that image.”

Your heart ached at her words. “That sounds exhausting.”

“It is,” she said quietly. “But it’s what’s expected. Alphas are supposed to be strong, reliable, in control. There’s no room for mistakes, no room to… just be.”

The vulnerability in her voice was striking, and you felt a sudden surge of protectiveness. “You know, Minjeong,” you said gently, “you don’t always have to be perfect. It’s okay to let yourself feel things. To let yourself… be human.”

She looked at you then, her eyes searching yours. The rain blurred the edges of the world outside, leaving only the two of you in focus. “It’s hard,” she admitted. “Especially when…” She trailed off, biting her lip as though debating whether to continue.

“When what?” you prompted gently.

Minjeong hesitated before speaking, her voice barely audible over the rain. “Especially when someone’s scent makes it harder to keep everything in check.”

Your breath caught, the meaning behind her words sinking in. “Minjeong…”

She looked away, her cheeks tinged with a faint blush. “Sorry. That was… probably too much.”

You shook your head quickly. “No, it’s okay. I just didn’t realize…”

“That you affect me?” she finished for you, her voice steady despite the vulnerability in her eyes.

You nodded, your heart pounding. “Yeah.”

Minjeong smiled faintly, her expression softening. “I’m not saying it’s a bad thing. If anything, it’s… grounding. Comforting, even.”

Her words sent a warmth through you that had nothing to do with the heater. You didn’t know what to say, so you settled for a small smile. “I’m glad.”

The rest of the drive was quieter, but the silence between you felt different now—charged with unspoken emotions. By the time Minjeong pulled up to your apartment building, the rain had eased to a gentle drizzle, the sky still heavy with clouds.

“Thank you for the ride,” you said as you unbuckled your seatbelt, your voice softer than before.

Minjeong nodded, her gaze lingering on you. "Anytime," she said. "Really."

You hesitated for a moment, the warmth of the conversation still wrapping around you. Finally, you gave her a small smile. "Goodnight, Minjeong."

"Goodnight, Y/N," she replied, her voice carrying an unfamiliar softness.

As you stepped out of the car and into the drizzle, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something between you had shifted. Minjeong waited until you were safely inside before driving off, her car disappearing into the rain-soaked night. Inside your apartment, you leaned against the door, your heart still racing.

The office was bustling as usual, a midweek rush that had everyone scrambling to meet deadlines. You were no exception, rushing from one end of the office to the other, juggling an armful of documents and a coffee mug you had precariously balanced on top of the stack.

“Y/N, do you need a hand with that?” someone called, but you waved them off with a distracted smile.

“No, I’m good!” you replied, already halfway to your desk.

Minjeong, seated at her desk across the room, glanced up from her laptop at the sound of your voice. Her sharp eyes tracked your movements, a hint of amusement on her face as she watched you maneuver through the sea of desks like a busy bee.

She had been keeping an eye on you more often lately, though she wasn’t sure if it was her alpha instincts or something else entirely. Either way, she couldn’t help but smile softly when you finally made it to your desk, setting the pile down with a triumphant huff.

But just as you turned to head toward the breakroom, chaos unfolded in the blink of an eye.

One of the office assistants, rushing by with a loaded cart of supplies, misjudged the narrow space near the staircase. The cart clipped the corner of your desk, sending its contents tumbling. You instinctively stepped back to avoid the spill, but the assistant, flustered and off-balance, accidentally bumped into you.

The world seemed to tilt as you stumbled backward, the edge of the staircase suddenly far too close. Your heart leapt into your throat as your heel missed the step, and you felt yourself start to fall.

“Y/N!”

Before you could process what was happening, strong arms wrapped around you, yanking you back from the brink. The momentum sent both of you tumbling onto the floor, but Minjeong’s body cushioned your fall.

The office fell into stunned silence. Everyone froze, eyes wide as they processed what had just happened.

“Are you okay?” Minjeong’s voice was low and urgent, her breath warm against your ear. Her arms remained firmly around you, as if afraid to let go.

You nodded shakily, your hands clutching at her blazer for support. “Y-Yeah. I think so.”

Her eyes scanned you, sharp and precise, searching for any sign of injury. When she was satisfied that you were unharmed, her gaze shifted, hardening as it landed on the assistant who had caused the commotion.

“What were you thinking?” she snapped, her tone cutting through the room like a blade.

The assistant stammered, their face pale. “I-I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to—”

A low growl rumbled in Minjeong’s chest, primal and protective, sending a chill through the room. The sound was quiet but unmistakable, and it made everyone within earshot tense. Even the assistant, who had been scrambling to pick up the spilled supplies, froze in place.

“Minjeong,” you whispered, your voice gentle but firm. “I’m okay. It’s fine.”

Her growl subsided at the sound of your voice, her grip on you loosening slightly. She exhaled deeply, the tension in her shoulders easing as she looked down at you.

“Are you sure?” she asked, her tone softening but still tinged with concern.

You nodded, offering her a reassuring smile. “I promise. Thank you for catching me.”

Minjeong blinked, as though coming back to herself. She realized then that she was still holding you, her arms wrapped securely around your waist. Her cheeks flushed, and she quickly helped you to your feet, clearing her throat.

“I…sorry,” she muttered, avoiding your gaze.

“It’s okay,” you said, your smile turning playful. “You kind of saved my life, you know.”

Her lips twitched, the ghost of a smile forming despite her embarrassment. “Just doing my job.”

As the tension in the room began to dissipate, your coworkers slowly returned to their tasks, though not without casting curious glances in your direction. The assistant apologized profusely before hurriedly cleaning up the mess, clearly eager to avoid Minjeong’s wrath.

You crouched down to help pick up the scattered papers, but Minjeong stopped you with a gentle hand on your arm.

“Let them handle it,” she said firmly. “You should sit down and rest.”

“Minjeong, I’m fine,” you insisted, but the look in her eyes told you there was no arguing with her.

“Please,” she said, her voice quieter now, almost pleading.

The softness in her tone caught you off guard, and you relented with a small nod. She guided you back to your desk, her hand lingering on your shoulder for a moment before she stepped away to check on the situation.

For the rest of the day, Minjeong stayed close, her presence a constant source of reassurance. Whenever you caught her glancing in your direction, her eyes filled with concern, you couldn’t help but feel a flutter of warmth in your chest.

And though you didn’t say it out loud, a part of you felt safer knowing she was there.

The days had grown longer and more vibrant since Minjeong and Y/N’s near accident on the stairs. Minjeong had become more protective than ever, though she masked it with her usual calm demeanor. But something had shifted between them. The air felt heavier when they were together, charged with an unspoken tension that neither of them was ready to address fully—until today.

Minjeong stood by her office window, staring out at the city skyline. She had been rehearsing her words all morning, a coffee mug clutched tightly in her hand. Her assistant had noticed the alpha’s uncharacteristic hesitation and wisely decided not to interrupt her.

“You’ve got this,” Minjeong muttered to herself. She took a deep breath, set her mug down, and strode confidently out of her office. But as soon as she approached Y/N’s desk, her composure wavered. The omega was typing away, her brow furrowed in concentration, and Minjeong couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

“Y/N?” Minjeong’s voice came out softer than she intended. Y/N looked up, her expression brightening immediately.

“Oh, hey, Minjeong. What’s up?”

The alpha shifted on her feet, suddenly hyper-aware of how many people were around. She cleared her throat. “Can we talk? Privately?”

Y/N’s brows furrowed slightly, but she nodded. “Sure. Just let me finish this email.”

A few moments later, they were tucked away in an empty conference room. Minjeong closed the door behind them, her heart pounding.

“Is everything okay?” Y/N asked, her voice tinged with concern.

“Yes, everything’s fine,” Minjeong said quickly, then winced at how abrupt she sounded. She took another deep breath, willing herself to calm down. “Actually, I… I wanted to ask you something.”

Y/N tilted her head, curiosity replacing her concern. “Okay?”

“Would you… would you like to go out for coffee with me?” Minjeong’s words came out in a rush, her cheeks tinging pink. “I mean, just the two of us. Not as coworkers. Just as… us.”

Y/N blinked, her lips parting in surprise. For a moment, Minjeong feared she had misread everything. But then, a slow smile spread across Y/N’s face, and she nodded.

“I’d like that,” Y/N said softly.

Relief flooded through Minjeong, and she couldn’t stop the grin that broke across her face. “Great. How about tonight?”

Y/N’s smile widened. “Tonight sounds perfect.”

--

The coffee shop Minjeong chose was cozy and tucked away in a quieter part of the city. It was the kind of place where people came to unwind, with warm lighting, soft jazz music playing in the background, and the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee filling the air. Minjeong had arrived early, her nerves getting the better of her.

She had just finished checking her reflection in her phone screen for the tenth time when Y/N walked in. The sight of her took Minjeong’s breath away. Y/N wasn’t dressed in her usual office attire but in a casual sweater and jeans that somehow made her look even more stunning.

“Hey,” Y/N said, smiling as she approached the table.

“Hey,” Minjeong replied, standing awkwardly before motioning for Y/N to sit. “You look… great.”

“Thanks,” Y/N said, her cheeks flushing slightly. “You do too.”

They ordered their drinks, and for a while, the conversation was light and easy. They talked about work, the rainstorm earlier in the week, and the latest office gossip. But as the evening wore on, the conversation turned more personal.

“I’ve always loved coffee shops like this,” Y/N said, her fingers tracing the rim of her mug. “They remind me of home.”

“Home?” Minjeong asked, leaning forward.

Y/N nodded. “I grew up in a small town. There was this little café where everyone would gather. It’s where I first started baking, actually. The owner let me use the kitchen after hours to experiment with recipes.”

Minjeong smiled, picturing a younger Y/N covered in flour and determinedly mixing batter. “That sounds… nice. Peaceful.”

“It was,” Y/N said wistfully. “But I wanted more than a small-town life. So, I moved here. It’s been good, but sometimes I miss how simple things were back then.”

Minjeong nodded, her gaze thoughtful. “I get that. The city can be overwhelming, especially when you feel like you have to constantly prove yourself.”

Y/N looked at her, a flicker of understanding in her eyes. “Is that how you feel?”

Minjeong hesitated before nodding. “Yeah. Being an alpha in a corporate world like ours… it’s complicated. People expect you to be strong, assertive, always in control. But sometimes, I just want to… not have to be any of those things.”

Y/N’s gaze softened. “That sounds exhausting.”

“It is,” Minjeong admitted. “But then there are moments that make it worth it. Moments like this.”

Y/N’s breath hitched slightly, her cheeks flushing. “Minjeong…”

The alpha shook her head, a small smile playing on her lips. “Sorry, that probably sounded cheesy.”

“No,” Y/N said quickly, her voice earnest. “It didn’t. I… I’m glad you asked me out tonight.”

Minjeong’s smile widened. “Me too.”

They spent the rest of the evening talking, the hours slipping away unnoticed. By the time they left the café, the city was quiet, the streets glistening under the soft glow of streetlights. Minjeong insisted on driving Y/N home again, and this time, the car ride was filled with comfortable silence and shared smiles.

When they reached Y/N’s apartment building, Minjeong walked her to the door.

“Thanks for tonight,” Y/N said, her voice soft.

“Thank you,” Minjeong replied. “I… really enjoyed it.”

Y/N hesitated for a moment before stepping closer. “Me too.”

For a moment, they stood there, the world around them fading away. Then Y/N leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to Minjeong’s cheek. “Goodnight, Minjeong.”

The alpha’s heart raced as she watched Y/N disappear into the building, her hand unconsciously brushing the spot where Y/N’s lips had touched her skin. She stood there for a moment longer, a smile spreading across her face.

Tonight had been perfect.

The day began like any other—files to review, meetings to attend, and the faint aroma of coffee and paper wafting through the office. Y/N was unusually quiet that morning, her usual cheerful demeanor replaced by a subtle tenseness that Minjeong couldn’t ignore. Though Y/N smiled politely when spoken to, her eyes seemed distant, her body language subdued.

Minjeong noticed immediately. She always did.

From her office, she watched Y/N shuffle through her tasks with uncharacteristic sluggishness. Something was wrong, and the faint prickling of her alpha instincts told her it was more than just a bad day. She tried to focus on her own work, but her gaze kept drifting to Y/N’s desk. It wasn’t until the omega abruptly stood, gripping the edge of her desk for support, that Minjeong’s concern sharpened into alarm.

Y/N’s scent shifted—a faint, sweet warmth that drifted into the air, growing stronger by the second. Minjeong stiffened, her instincts roaring to attention as she recognized the telltale signs of an omega entering an unexpected heat. Around the office, other alphas subtly straightened, their noses twitching as they picked up on the scent. Minjeong’s jaw clenched.

She was out of her office in seconds, crossing the floor to Y/N’s desk. “Y/N,” she said softly, her voice low enough to avoid drawing attention but firm enough to cut through Y/N’s haze.

Y/N turned to her, her eyes glassy and unfocused. “I… I think…” Her voice wavered, and she swayed slightly on her feet.

“Come with me,” Minjeong said, stepping closer. She gently placed a hand on Y/N’s arm, steadying her. The touch seemed to ground the omega, and she nodded, leaning into Minjeong’s support. Minjeong’s heart twisted at the vulnerability in Y/N’s expression, but she pushed it aside. Right now, Y/N needed her.

The other employees were starting to notice, their whispers and curious glances only heightening Minjeong’s urgency. Without a word, she guided Y/N toward the elevators, shielding her from prying eyes with her own body. When a junior alpha from accounting started to approach, Minjeong shot them a warning glare, a low growl rumbling in her chest. The other alpha froze, then wisely retreated.

Once inside the elevator, Minjeong pressed the button for the top floor. The building had a few unused executive suites that were kept locked and private. It was the safest place she could think of.

Y/N’s breathing was shallow, her face flushed as she leaned heavily against the elevator wall. Minjeong stayed close but kept her hands to herself, knowing how overwhelming physical contact could be during a heat.

“We’re almost there,” she murmured, her voice steady and calming. Y/N’s eyes flickered to hers, and for a moment, Minjeong thought she saw a flicker of gratitude.

The elevator dinged, and Minjeong led Y/N down the empty hallway to one of the locked suites. She used her master keycard to unlock the door, ushering Y/N inside before closing it firmly behind them. The room was quiet and spacious, with a plush couch and large windows overlooking the city.

“Sit,” Minjeong said gently, gesturing to the couch. Y/N obeyed, sinking into the cushions with a soft sigh. Her scent was stronger now, filling the room with a warmth that made Minjeong’s pulse quicken. She forced herself to focus, setting her bag down and taking a step back to give Y/N space.

“Do you need anything?” Minjeong asked, keeping her voice soft. “Water? A blanket?”

Y/N shook her head, her hands trembling slightly as she gripped the edge of the couch. “I… I didn’t think it would happen here,” she said, her voice thick with embarrassment. “It’s never been so sudden before.”

“It’s okay,” Minjeong said firmly. “You’re safe. Just focus on breathing, alright?”

Y/N nodded, closing her eyes as she tried to steady herself. Minjeong watched her carefully, her own instincts warring within her. The protective urge to stay close was almost overwhelming, but she knew better than to act on it. Y/N needed comfort, not pressure.

After a few moments, Y/N’s breathing evened out slightly, though her flushed cheeks and the faint sheen of sweat on her forehead betrayed the intensity of her heat. “I… I’m sorry for causing a scene,” she said quietly, not meeting Minjeong’s eyes.

“Don’t apologize,” Minjeong said immediately. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Y/N’s lips quirked into a weak smile. “You always know what to say, don’t you?”

Minjeong’s expression softened. “Not always. But I mean it. You don’t have to feel bad for something you can’t control.”

For a while, the two of them sat in silence, the tension in the room slowly easing. Minjeong stayed by the door, her arms crossed as she kept a careful eye on Y/N. Despite the situation, there was something oddly comforting about being here with her, away from the chaos of the office. It felt… intimate, in a way that Minjeong hadn’t expected.

“Minjeong?” Y/N’s voice broke the quiet.

“Yeah?”

Y/N hesitated, her eyes darting to the floor. “Thank you. For helping me. I don’t know what I would’ve done if… if you weren’t there.”

Minjeong’s chest tightened, a warm ache spreading through her. “You don’t have to thank me,” she said softly. “I’ll always be here for you. No matter what.”

Y/N looked up at her then, her eyes shimmering with unspoken emotion. For a moment, the room felt impossibly small, the air between them charged with something neither of them dared to name. Then Y/N’s lips curved into a faint smile, and the tension eased, replaced by a quiet understanding.

“You should get some rest,” Minjeong said, clearing her throat. “I’ll stay out here and keep an eye on things.”

Y/N nodded, leaning back against the couch with a tired sigh. As her eyes fluttered shut, Minjeong settled into a chair by the door, her posture relaxed but alert. She knew the next few hours would be long, but she didn’t mind. Protecting Y/N, keeping her safe—it felt right. Natural.

Minjeong found herself anxiously smoothing down her blazer for what felt like the hundredth time. She stood outside a cozy café nestled in the quieter part of the city, a place Y/N had chosen for their second date. Their first official outing had gone better than Minjeong could have hoped. But today felt different. She could feel the weight of words she’d been holding back pressing heavily on her chest.

“Minjeong!” Y/N’s voice pulled her from her thoughts. Turning, Minjeong saw her walking up the cobblestone path, a soft smile playing on her lips. She wore a light sweater that made her look impossibly warm and approachable. Minjeong’s heart did a somersault, the kind that left her both exhilarated and terrified.

“Y/N,” Minjeong greeted, her voice softer than she intended. She held the door open, and they stepped inside together.

The café was a charming little nook, its walls lined with bookshelves and fairy lights. The gentle hum of conversation filled the air, mingling with the rich scent of coffee and freshly baked pastries. They found a quiet corner, and as they settled into their seats, Minjeong couldn’t help but notice how Y/N’s eyes sparkled when she looked around.

“This place is lovely,” Y/N said, her hands wrapping around the warm cup of tea the barista had just placed in front of her. “I can’t believe I haven’t been here before.”

Minjeong nodded, watching her as she spoke. She loved how Y/N’s voice carried a gentle lilt, how her presence seemed to soften even the sharpest edges of Minjeong’s restless mind.

“You’re the one who suggested it,” Minjeong said, a teasing glint in her eyes. “But I agree. It’s... cozy.”

Y/N chuckled softly, and for a moment, they sat in comfortable silence, sipping their drinks. Minjeong felt the tension in her shoulders ease, but the words she needed to say lingered at the back of her throat, refusing to come out. It wasn’t until Y/N leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand and looking at her with those impossibly kind eyes, that Minjeong realized she couldn’t keep it in any longer.

“Y/N,” she began, her voice hesitant. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.”

Y/N tilted her head slightly, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Oh? What is it?”

Minjeong hesitated, her fingers tightening around her coffee cup. She took a deep breath, gathering her courage. “I... I like you,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “A lot. More than I think I even realized at first.”

Y/N’s smile grew, and she leaned back in her chair, her expression unreadable for a moment. Minjeong’s heart pounded in the silence that followed, her mind racing with every worst-case scenario.

“You’re really bad at hiding it, you know,” Y/N finally said, her tone playful. “I’ve known for a while.”

Minjeong blinked, stunned. “You... knew?”

“Of course I did.” Y/N laughed, her cheeks flushing slightly. “You’re not exactly subtle, Minjeong. The lingering stares, the way you always find excuses to be near me... It’s kind of adorable, actually.”

Minjeong felt her face heat up, and she ducked her head slightly. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because I was waiting for you to,” Y/N admitted, her voice softening. “I didn’t want to rush you. Besides, I liked seeing you figure it out on your own. It made it feel... genuine.”

Minjeong looked up, her eyes meeting Y/N’s. There was no teasing in her gaze now, only warmth and sincerity. Something inside Minjeong eased, and for the first time, she allowed herself to smile fully.

“I don’t know why I was so scared,” Minjeong said, her voice barely audible. “I just... didn’t want to ruin what we have. You’re important to me.”

Y/N reached across the table, her hand resting lightly on Minjeong’s. “And you’re important to me, too. More than you probably realize.”

The gentle weight of Y/N’s hand against hers sent a wave of warmth through Minjeong, and she squeezed it lightly. For a moment, the world outside the café faded away, leaving only the two of them in their little corner of peace.

As they left the café, the cool evening air greeted them. They walked side by side, the city’s lights casting a soft glow around them. When they reached Y/N’s building, she turned to Minjeong, a faint blush coloring her cheeks.

“Thank you for tonight,” Y/N said. “I had a really good time.”

“Me too,” Minjeong replied, her voice gentle. She hesitated for a moment before stepping closer. “Y/N... can I—?”

Y/N didn’t let her finish. Smiling, she closed the small distance between them, standing on her toes to press a soft, lingering kiss to Minjeong’s lips. It was tentative at first, as if testing the waters, but when Minjeong responded, cupping Y/N’s face with trembling hands, it deepened into something that felt like a promise.

When they finally pulled away, Y/N’s eyes were bright, and Minjeong felt like she could conquer the world. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” Y/N said softly, her voice laced with something Minjeong couldn’t quite place but knew she never wanted to lose.

Minjeong nodded, unable to keep the smile off her face. “Tomorrow.”

As she walked away, Minjeong felt lighter than she had in years. She didn’t just feel like an alpha or a manager or a woman trying to navigate the complexities of life in the city. She felt like someone who had finally found home.

The soft hum of the oven filled Minjeong’s cozy apartment, mingling with the warm aroma of freshly baked cookies. It was a stark contrast to the quiet professionalism that usually defined their weekdays at the office. Here, away from deadlines and meetings, the world felt smaller, simpler—just the two of them, and a batch of chocolate chip cookies.

Y/N stood at the counter, hands dusted with flour as she worked dough into perfectly round shapes. Her laugh was light as she glanced over at Minjeong, who was struggling with her own misshapen attempts.

“How do you make it look so easy?” Minjeong grumbled, holding up a lumpy ball of dough that barely resembled a circle. Her lips were slightly pursed in concentration, but her cheeks flushed from embarrassment.

“Years of practice,” Y/N teased, leaning closer to inspect Minjeong’s work. “But hey, this one’s not bad.” She picked up the lopsided creation and held it between her fingers. “See? Almost perfect.”

“Almost?” Minjeong raised a playful eyebrow. “Harsh.”

Y/N smiled, her eyes sparkling as she turned back to her tray. “You’ll get there. Eventually.”

Minjeong rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop the grin spreading across her face. She set down her latest attempt and stepped closer to Y/N, brushing her hands on her apron. “You’re just showing off now.”

“And?” Y/N smirked, her tone light and teasing.

The playful banter filled the room, a rhythm they had fallen into so naturally that it felt like second nature. It was hard to believe that just months ago, Minjeong had been too nervous to even compliment Y/N’s cookies at work. Now, she was elbow-deep in cookie dough, laughing at her own failures with someone who had become the most important part of her life.

Minjeong reached over and stole a small pinch of dough from Y/N’s tray. Before Y/N could protest, Minjeong popped it into her mouth with a smug look.

“Minjeong!” Y/N gasped, her hands on her hips. “You’re going to throw off the balance!”

“I’ll risk it,” Minjeong said, her voice muffled by the dough. She grinned and leaned on the counter, watching as Y/N shook her head, half-exasperated and half-amused.

“You’re impossible,” Y/N said, but her tone lacked any real heat.

Minjeong’s gaze softened as she watched Y/N’s smile linger, even as she pretended to scold. This was the kind of happiness Minjeong had never thought she’d find—effortless, genuine, and entirely tied to the person standing in front of her.

The oven timer beeped, pulling Minjeong from her thoughts. Y/N moved to grab a mitt and carefully pulled out the tray, setting it on the counter. The cookies were golden brown, their edges crisp and centers soft. Minjeong leaned closer, inhaling deeply.

“Smells amazing,” she murmured.

“Of course it does,” Y/N replied, feigning pride. “It’s my recipe, after all.”

Minjeong chuckled and grabbed two mugs from a cabinet. “Milk or tea?” she asked, holding them up.

“Milk,” Y/N said, her tone definitive. “Cookies without milk are just sad.”

Minjeong nodded in agreement and poured two glasses of milk, setting them down on the small table in the living room. She returned to the kitchen and began transferring cookies onto a plate, doing her best to avoid the ones she’d shaped—those would stay hidden for now.

Y/N noticed and nudged her. “They all go on the plate, Minjeong. Even the… unique ones.”

“Fine,” Minjeong sighed, but she couldn’t stop smiling as she added the misshapen cookies to the plate.

Once the cookies were ready, they settled on the couch together, the plate balanced between them. Rain pattered softly against the windows, and the warm glow of a single lamp bathed the room in a cozy light. It felt like a scene out of a movie—a peaceful, domestic moment that neither of them wanted to end.

“I never thought I’d be here,” Minjeong admitted after a long stretch of comfortable silence. She glanced at Y/N, her expression thoughtful. “With someone who makes me feel so… grounded.”

Y/N looked at her, surprised by the sudden vulnerability in Minjeong’s voice. She set down her cookie and turned to face her fully. “You mean that?”

Minjeong nodded, her gaze steady. “I’ve spent so much time trying to keep my instincts in check, trying to be the kind of alpha who doesn’t make people uncomfortable. But with you…” She trailed off, searching for the right words. “I don’t feel like I have to hide anything.”

Y/N’s cheeks flushed, and she smiled softly. “You don’t have to hide anything from me, Minjeong. I like you just the way you are.”

The sincerity in her voice made Minjeong’s heart ache in the best way. She reached out, hesitating for a moment before taking Y/N’s hand in hers. “Thank you,” she said quietly.

Y/N squeezed her hand gently, her eyes shining with warmth. “For what?”

“For being you,” Minjeong replied. “For making me feel like I’ve finally found where I belong.”

The moment stretched between them, filled with unspoken emotions that didn’t need words. Minjeong leaned closer, her eyes flicking to Y/N’s lips for just a second before she pulled back, her cheeks pink.

Y/N chuckled, reaching for another cookie. “You’re adorable when you’re flustered, you know that?”

Minjeong groaned, covering her face with her free hand. “I’m never going to live this down, am I?”

“Not a chance,” Y/N teased, biting into her cookie.

Despite her embarrassment, Minjeong couldn’t help but smile. She leaned back against the couch, her hand still intertwined with Y/N’s. The scent of cookies lingered in the air, mixing with the faintest trace of Y/N’s calming scent. a/n: sigh, i kinda gave up on this one halfway through😭😭 the burnout is real you guys.

[wchswift]

Under the Lights ༉‧₊˚ 

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader Summary: A sweet and peaceful Christmas with Dean. Content: fluff, mostly soft moments, family, first Christmas at the bunker, I hate Mary but she is mentioned briefly, not proofread, English isn’t my first language :) Word count: 2k A/N: almost christmas and im so excited!! I really love christmas and lately these are the only ideas I can think of to write lol. i just love soft and happy dean so I thought I'd write a cute one shot about him having a good christmas bc all i wanted was to spend these holidays with him

mdni 𖤐 18+

Dean leaned against the doorway, the faintest curve of a smile playing on his lips. The sight of you, utterly absorbed in decorating the tree, tugged at something deep in his chest. The soft glow of the twinkling lights painted your face in golds and silvers. You were on your toes, reaching for a high branch, determined to hang an ornament in its perfect place. From his vantage point, Dean couldn’t help but grin. The way your nose crinkled when something didn’t sit just right, the soft hum of Christmas music as you worked—it all made the bunker feel a little less like a fortress and a little more like home.

The table behind you bore the chaos of your efforts—ornaments arranged and rearranged, tinsel spilling onto the floor like silken threads of moonlight. It was chaos, yes, but it was yours, and Dean found it impossible to look away.

“Sweetheart,” he finally said, his voice warm and teasing, breaking through the soft hum of Let It Snow playing in the background. “Not to rush a masterpiece, but you’ve been at this tree longer than it takes Santa to finish his route.”

You turned, giving him a mock glare, your lips pressed into a pout that was as endearing as it was teasing. “It has to be perfect, Dean.”

“It already is,” he countered, stepping closer, his hands casually stuffed into his pockets. “Lights, ornaments, a star on top—what more does a tree need?”

“Your enthusiasm,” you shot back, turning back to adjust the ribbon for what must have been the hundredth time.

Dean chuckled, moving to your side, sliding an arm around your waist, and pulling you against him. “My enthusiasm’s here,” he murmured, his lips brushing your temple. "I'm just more contained about it."

You let out a soft sigh, letting yourself lean deeper into his warm embrace as you closed your eyes for a moment, savoring the comfort he provided. "I know, Dean," you began, your voice gentle but filled with understanding. "But I also know how excited you get about these celebrations. Deep down, you wish for that typical family cliche, and you and Sam truly deserve it. I just want us to have a memorable time together… Could you please enjoy this too and get into the mood with me?"

You turned your face to meet his gaze, your eyes sparkling with hope and sincerity. Your tone was calm, and the warmth of your words seemed to hang in the air between you. Dean, ever the skeptic, tried to roll his eyes in playful defiance, but a smile broke through despite his efforts. The corners of his mouth lifted, and he leaned in, planting a quick, soft kiss on your lips before surrendering to your encouragement, as he usually did.

The sound of boots against metal echoed through the bunker as Sam descended the stairs. His voice rang out before he even reached the bottom. “Dean, what’s going on in here?”

Sam paused, his eyebrows shooting up as he took in the sight of his brother atop the map table, duct-taping garland to the ceiling beams.

"Decking the halls, Sammy. What’s it look like?” He replied, still focused on the lights.

“It looks like a fire hazard,” Sam deadpanned, crossing his arms as he took in the mess of lights, ornaments, and tinsel scattered across the room.

You emerged from the kitchen, carrying a tray of cookies, just as Dean hopped down from the table. “Sam, you should’ve seen him earlier. He tried to hang stockings with fishing wire.”

Dean shrugged, unapologetic. “It worked, didn’t it?”

Sam sighed, shaking his head. "So, this is your new thing now? Christmas?” He muttered though a small smile tugged at his lips.

“Oh, come on, Sam,” you chimed in, setting the cookies down on the table. “It's the best time of the year. Even hunters deserve a little holiday spirit.”

Dean grabbed a cookie, pointing it at Sam. “She’s right. Stop being a Grinch.”

Reluctantly, Sam joined in, helping you and Dean finish decorating the bunker. By the time you were done, the usually cold, utilitarian space looked warm and inviting. Lights draped across the walls, the centerpiece Sam had crafted out of pine branches and candles sat proudly on the map table, and the tree sparkled in the corner.

Dean stepped back, hands on his hips, surveying the scene. “Not bad for a bunch of hunters, huh?”

Later that evening, the bunker had settled into a cozy stillness. Sam had retreated to his room, leaving you and Dean sitting by the softly glowing tree. The faint crackle of a vinyl record Dean had unearthed earlier filled the air, Bing Crosby crooning about dreaming of a white Christmas.

You leaned back against the armchair, watching Dean as he entertained himself by drinking his hot chocolate. The moment felt right, so you reached beside you and pulled out a carefully wrapped box tied with red string.

“Okay,” you said, your voice tinged with both excitement and hesitation, “before you make a big deal out of this, I just want to say that it’s practical.”

Dean’s eyebrows rose as he took the box, his lips twitching into a grin. “Practical, huh? Not sure what that means coming from you.”

“Just open it,” you urged, your hands fidgeting nervously in your lap.

Dean unwrapped the box with care, his grin softening as he revealed a thick leather-bound journal. His fingers brushed over the cover, and for a moment, he was quiet, his thumb tracing the edges of the pages.

“It’s, uh…” you started, your voice softer now. “I noticed you don’t really have a place to write things down—your thoughts, memories, whatever. So I thought… maybe you could use it. For good stuff. Things you want to remember. Not like hunting stuff or anything like your dad's but something good? Or whatever you want I don't know...” you rambled, feeling anxious.

Dean opened the journal, flipping through the blank pages. Inside the front cover, you’d written a small inscription in your neat handwriting: For all the moments you want to hold on to.

He stared at the words for a long beat before letting out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “You know me too well, sweetheart.”

“I just thought,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper, “after everything we’ve been through, it might be nice to have something that’s yours. Something that’s just… good.”

Dean closed the journal and set it carefully on the table beside him. Then he turned to you, his green eyes impossibly soft. “You always know what I need before I even know it myself.”

Before you could respond, he reached behind him and pulled something from his jacket pocket. “Okay, my turn.”

He held out a small box, its edges worn, like it had been carried around for some time. “It’s not new,” he said, almost apologetically. “But I’ve been meaning to give this to you.”

You opened the box slowly, revealing a simple yet beautiful silver bracelet. The charms hanging were clearly chosen by a hunter, it was small and subtle, but unmistakable.

“It was my mom’s,” Dean said quietly, his gaze dropping to the bracelet. “She always said it was for protection. I’ve kept it all these years, but… I think she’d want you to have it.”

Your throat tightened, and tears pricked at your eyes as you looked at him. “Dean, I… I can’t take this. It’s too important.”

Dean shook his head, reaching out to take your hand. “You’re important,” he said simply. “And if anyone deserves to have it, it’s you.”

You stared at the bracelet, overwhelmed by the gesture. Then, without a word, you leaned forward and wrapped your arms around him, burying your face in his shoulder. He held you tightly, his hand cradling the back of your head.

When you finally pulled away, you slipped the bracelet onto your wrist, smiling through the tears in your eyes. “Thank you, Dean. I’ll take good care of it.”

“I know you will,” he said softly, his thumb brushing across your knuckles.

The two of you sat in silence for a moment, the only sound the soft hum of the record player. And as you leaned back against him, the bracelet resting cool against your skin, you felt a sense of belonging that you hadn’t known you were missing.

The warm connection from the gift exchange flowed naturally into the next day, making every interaction lighter, and more meaningful.

The kitchen was a flurry of activity as the three of you prepared dinner. Dean insisted on taking charge of the main course, proudly presenting a vegetarian lasagna for Sam and you.

“See? I’m not just a pie guy,” he said, grinning.

Meanwhile, you and Sam teamed up to bake cookies. It started out innocent enough, but it quickly devolved into a flour fight when Sam accidentally knocked over the mixing bowl.

Dean walked in just as you lobbed a handful of flour at Sam, only to hit him square in the chest instead. He froze, staring down at his now-flour-covered shirt. “What the hell, guys?”

Dean just watched you and Sam burst into laughter, trying to stay mad.

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean muttered, brushing flour off his jacket. “Real funny. Guess who’s cleaning this up?”

“Not me,” you and Sam said in unison, making you chuckle again.

Dean shook his head, a grin appearing on his face despite his attempt to remain irritated.

Later that night, the three of you gathered in the living room, your plates cleared and the remnants of the day’s chaos tucked away. Sam stretched out on the other armchair with a book, the corner of his mouth twitching upward as he occasionally glanced at you and Dean by the tree, his arm draped protectively around your shoulders.

The bracelet he’d given you caught the soft glow of the lights, its charm resting lightly against your wrist. You found yourself absently touching it, grounding yourself in the weight of what it meant.

Sam finally closed his book, setting it aside as he stretched his long legs. “You know,” he said, breaking the comfortable silence, “You two actually did a pretty good job. I think this might be the first time the bunkers actually felt… normal. Like a real home.”

Dean snorted softly. “Took long enough, huh?”

Sam smiled, his expression soft. “Yeah. But I’m glad we got here.”

Dean raised his mug in a mock toast. “To surviving another year and not burning the place down with Christmas lights.”

Sam rolled his eyes but lifted his mug too. “Yeah, yeah... To family.”

You lifted your own mug, smiling as you echoed the sentiment. “To family.”

The three of you sat quietly for a while, watching the lights twinkle on the tree. Eventually, Sam excused himself, muttering something about research, leaving you and Dean alone again.

Dean nudged you gently, drawing your attention. “Come with me for a sec,” he said, his voice low but insistent.

Curious, you followed him as he grabbed a thick blanket from the couch and led you up the large stairs of the bunker. He stopped at one of the heavy iron doors, twisting the wheel to unlock it before pulling it open to reveal the wide, open expanse of the night sky.

The cold air hit you first, crisp and biting, but the sight of the stars made you forget it almost instantly. Dean draped the blanket over your shoulders and pulled you close, his warmth a welcome contrast to the chill.

“Figured we could use some fresh air,” he said simply, his voice quiet.

You leaned into him, your head resting against his shoulder as you gazed up at the stars. They glittered against the inky blackness, impossibly bright and infinite, like tiny promises of hope scattered across the sky.

“We really did it huh?” Dean murmured, his voice low and warm.

“Did what?” you asked, tilting your head to look up at him.

“This,” he said simply, gesturing back to the bunker. “Christmas. The whole thing. It’s not half bad.”

“It’s perfect,” you said softly, resting your head back against his shoulder.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The world felt distant here, the weight of hunting, loss, and responsibility held at bay by the vastness of the universe.

Dean’s voice broke the silence, soft but sure. “You know, I never thought I’d get something like this.”

You turned to look at him, your brow furrowing slightly. “Something like what?”

He gestured toward the stars, the blanket, the faint glow of the bunker behind you. “All this. A night where everything’s quiet. Where it feels like we’re not just surviving.”

Your chest tightened at his words, and you reached for his hand, lacing your fingers with his. “You deserve this, Dean. You deserve nights like this and so much more.”

He looked at you then, his green eyes shimmering in the soft glow of the starlight above. A gentle smile played on his lips as he spoke, “So do you,” his voice barely above a whisper. His thumb grazed over your knuckles, sending a warm thrill through you. "Thank you." With a tender sincerity, he leaned in and pressed his lips against yours. The kiss was soft and lingering, filled with a depth of love and unspoken emotions that seemed to wrap around you like a cozy blanket, leaving you breathless in the stillness of the night.

The two of you stayed there, wrapped in the quiet and each other, until the cold became too much to ignore.

As you made your way back inside, Dean caught your hand, stopping you just before you reached the main hallway.

“Hey,” he said, his voice low and rough around the edges. “Merry Christmas.”

You smiled, leaning up to give him a peck on the lips, your heart full. “Merry Christmas, Dean.”

And in that moment, with the warmth of his hand in yours and the quiet hum of life around you, you felt something you hadn’t in a long time: hope. This was home—messy, chaotic, and imperfect. And it was everything you needed.

a/n: oh my god, I had so much fun writing this :) I don't know if I liked how it turned out that much, but I thought it was cute enough to post...

𖤐 reblogs and feedback are appreciated! requests are also welcome, ty!

[ocean-bookss]

❄️ 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 ❄️

Leon Kennedy x Reader

𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ★

Snow falls gently outside my living room window while the warm glow of fairy lights fills the space with a cozy atmosphere. The scent of cinnamon, oranges, and a hint of mulled wine lingers in the air. My friends are scattered across my couch and armchairs, glasses clinking softly as Jill laughs at one of Carlos' jokes.

"Alright, everyone, before you're all too tipsy, let's do the Secret Santa exchange!" Claire raises her voice above the hum of Christmas music. She's curled up with her legs tucked under her, holding her mulled wine tightly.

My heart sinks into my stomach. The Secret Santa exchange. The gift. Leon. My eyes dart to him briefly. He's sitting a little apart from the others, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, nursing a half-full glass of whiskey. The flickering lights cast shadows across his sharp features, and his thoughtful gaze is focused on the drink in his hand. How can someone look so effortlessly good while just sitting there?

A light nudge on my shoulder pulls me from my thoughts. Jill grins knowingly at me. "Hey, you're practically shaking. You okay, (Y/n)?"

"Yeah, totally fine," I mumble and take another sip from my drink. It's my third, I think. Or my fourth? Who's counting, anyway?

Carlos raises his voice. "Alright, who's up first?"

One by one, we hand out our gifts. Jill bursts out laughing when she unwraps an absurd reindeer onesie from Carlos, Claire squeals over a personalized pocket knife, and Leon gifts Claire a high-end flashlight that looks like it could survive the apocalypse. The mood is light, and the drinks keep flowing.

"Okay," Claire begins, her eyes landing squarely on me. "Your turn, (Y/n)."

My heart is pounding so loudly, I'm sure the others can hear it. I feel everyone's eyes on me, especially Leon's. He looks relaxed but curious.

"Uh, yeah, so..." I clear my throat and stand up. My hands are trembling slightly as I grab the gift from the table. The boxing gloves are neatly wrapped, the vodka bottle securely placed beside them, and the card is carefully tucked between the two. "This is for you, Leon," I say, holding the package out to him.

His icy blue eyes meet mine, and for a moment, I forget how to breathe. He takes the gift from me, his warm fingers brushing mine, and I can only hope I'm not visibly blushing.

"Thank you, (Y/n)." His voice is deep and calm. "Open it!" Jill calls out excitedly, elbowing Claire, who looks equally invested.

Leon sets his glass down and carefully unwraps the package with an ease that makes me even more nervous. When he pulls out the boxing gloves first, his eyebrows raise slightly.

"Boxing gloves? These are... great. My old ones are pretty worn out." He smiles at me, and my heart skips a beat.

"And vodka," he mutters, holding up the bottle. "You really know how to make a guy happy, (Y/n)."

Claire and Jill shoot me conspiratorial glances, and Carlos chuckles behind his glass. "There's also... a card," I stammer, feeling the last bit of courage draining from me. Leon pulls out the card and opens it. My heart stops, and I forget how to breathe entirely. His eyes scan over the words, and then he looks back up at me. His gaze is warm, soft, but also... surprised?

"'If you're up for it, I'd love to take you out to dinner. Just the two of us.'" Leon reads the words aloud softly, then lowers the card.

Silence fills the room, and I'm pretty sure Claire and Jill are practically boring holes into us with their stares.

Leon stands up and takes a step toward me. I'm frozen in place, unable to move an inch.

"Thanks for the gifts, (Y/n)." His smile is gentle, and his eyes hold an expression I can't quite decipher. "I'd really like that."

A massive weight lifts from my chest, and I can't stop the wide smile spreading across my face. "Really? I mean... cool! That's great."

"I'm looking forward to it." He slips the card into his jacket pocket and lifts the vodka bottle slightly. "Maybe we can crack this open on our date."

Jill can't hold it in any longer. "Finally! Oh my God!"

"Hey, hey, don't scare them off now," Carlos says, holding up his hands in mock surrender, but he's grinning widely.

Leon shakes his head slightly, trying to hide a smirk. "Thank you, (Y/n). Really. This is one of the best gifts I've received in a long time."

"I'm... I'm glad you like it," I reply honestly, and this time, I meet his gaze without looking away.

The music continues to play, and the others settle back into their spots. Leon sits back in his armchair, but this time, he glances over at me more often. And every time our eyes meet, I feel a warm flutter in my stomach.

─ׅ─ׄ─★─ׄ─ׅ─ׄ─★─ׄ─ׅ─ׄ─★─ׄ─ׅ─ׄ─

Later That Night

The others have already made themselves comfortable in my guest rooms, and the apartment has fallen quiet. Only I remain in the kitchen, clearing away the last of the glasses. "You're still up?" Leon's voice makes me jump slightly. He's leaning against the doorframe, hands tucked into the pockets of his gray sweatpants.

"Yeah, I... just wanted to clean up a bit."

He steps closer, leaning casually against the kitchen counter. "Thank you again for the gift. And the invitation."

I smile shyly. "No problem. I thought... it might be a nice idea."

"It was." He smiles softly, and for a moment, it feels like time stops.

We stand there in silence for a moment. Then Leon pushes away from the counter and steps closer to me.

"Merry Christmas, (Y/n)."

"Merry Christmas, Leon."

Before I can even process what's happening, he leans down and presses a soft kiss to my cheek. His lips are warm and gentle, and I'm pretty sure my heart just stopped beating.

When he pulls back, there's a faint smile on his face. "Good night."

He turns and walks out of the kitchen, leaving me standing there, frozen in place. My hand instinctively rises to my cheek, and I can't stop the wide grin from spreading across my face.

Maybe this Christmas wasn't just another night with friends. Maybe it was the start of something beautiful.

─ׅ─ׄ─★─ׄ─ׅ─ׄ─★─ׄ─ׅ─ׄ─★─ׄ─ׅ─ׄ─

Oneshot Collection on Wattpad !

[obxfavssss]

Still us.

jj maybank

This is my first time writing. i hope you like it!!! As someone with anxiety, i tried putting in how i actually feel when i start getting it

Warnings- anxiety

Her and JJ had broken up a month ago after a fight. They both had a school trip and found out they were sharing a room, and her anxiety flared up in the room.

Y/N sat quietly at the back of the bus, staring out the window as the landscape blurred by. The school trip to the Outer Banks was supposed to be a fun break from the usual routine, but for her, it felt like another hurdle to overcome. Since her breakup with JJ Maybank a few months ago, things had been different. She’d been on edge, trying to focus on school and life in general, but his absence left a hole she couldn’t fill.

The breakup was messy, one of those fights that ended with words neither of them meant. But that didn’t make it hurt any less. JJ had always been the one to calm her when her anxiety would spiral, the one who knew exactly what to say and how to hold her when everything felt like too much.

The sound of the bus doors opening brought her back to the present. The students piled out, excited for the weekend ahead. Y/N stayed back, watching her classmates scatter in different directions. She couldn’t help but notice the familiar, wild blonde hair of JJ as he hopped out, his usual carefree grin on his face. But it wasn’t the same anymore. They were strangers now, after everything that had happened.

When they reached the hotel and the chaperones handed out room assignments, Y/N felt a knot in her stomach. She scanned the paper and froze. Of all the rooms in the hotel, she was paired with none other than JJ.

She thought about protesting. She thought about saying something, but she didn’t want to make a scene. Not here. Not now. With a deep sigh, she took the key from the chaperone and made her way up to the room.

The door creaked open, revealing a simple hotel room with two beds. JJ was already sitting on one, his feet propped up on the edge, a textbook in hand—though it was clear he wasn’t really reading it.

He looked up when she entered. His expression softened for a moment, but there was hesitation in his eyes. "Hey," he said, his voice unusually quiet.

"Hey," Y/N replied, setting her bag down. The awkward silence hung between them like a thick fog, neither one knowing what to say. They hadn't really spoken since the breakup.

"I—uh, guess we’ll have to deal with this," JJ muttered, breaking the silence. "Roommates for the weekend."

Y/N gave a small nod, trying to keep her composure. But internally, her anxiety was already starting to flare up. Being in close proximity to JJ, the one person who knew all her triggers, was not helping.

Her breathing started to quicken, her chest tightening. She sat on the edge of the other bed, doing her best to calm herself, but the panic crept in faster than she could control. She felt like something was pushing on her chest. Her heart felt like it was about to jump out of it. Her head started spinning, and she felt like she was gonna throw up, which didn't help in the slightest as she wad afraid of being sick.

JJ noticed it right away. He set his book aside and leaned forward, his eyes narrowing in concern. "Y/N?"

She tried to wave him off, but her hands were shaking, her heart hammering in her chest. "I’m fine," she managed, though it was clear she wasn’t.

"Hey," JJ said, standing up and crossing the room in a few strides. He gently took her hand, his touch grounding her like it always had. "You’re not fine. Look at me."

She didn’t want to. She didn’t want him to see her like this, but the softness in his voice made her meet his gaze. JJ’s face was full of concern, and for a moment, everything else faded away.

"Just breathe with me, okay?" He instructed gently, squeezing her hand. "In through your nose, out through your mouth. Focus on me."

Y/N obeyed, her breath shaky at first, but slowly falling into rhythm with his. JJ’s presence was calming, like it always had been. He knew exactly how to help her find her center, how to spot her head from spinning around. She closed her eyes, trying to block out the world around them, focusing on his steady breaths and the feel of his hand in hers.

"That’s it," he murmured. "You’re doing great."

The anxiety started to loosen its grip on her, her body relaxing in small increments. When she finally opened her eyes again, JJ was still holding her hand, his expression softer than she’d ever seen it.

"I—I don’t know what to say," Y/N whispered, the lump in her throat threatening to choke her up. "I don’t know how to be around you anymore."

JJ exhaled slowly, his thumb gently rubbing the back of her hand. "I know," he said quietly. "It’s been hard for me too."

Y/N’s chest tightened at his words. She hadn’t realized how much she still missed him, how much she still cared. Despite everything, she still felt that pull toward him—the one she couldn’t explain, the one that made her heart race whenever he was close.

"I didn’t want to hurt you, Y/N," JJ continued, his voice a little hoarse. "I just… I didn’t know how to deal with everything. I was a mess. And I didn’t want to drag you into it."

Y/N felt a tear slip down her cheek, and she quickly wiped it away. "I was always there for you, JJ. You didn’t have to push me away."

He looked down, guilt clouding his features. "I know," he whispered. "I messed up. But I’m still here, if you want me to be."

Her heart clenched. She wanted him. She always had. But there were so many things left unsaid between them. The past few months had been a painful reminder of the distance they had created. Yet, in that moment, she felt something shift—something familiar and comforting.

Y/N hesitated, then spoke, her voice quieter than usual. "Do you think... we could try again? I don’t know if I’m ready to jump back into everything, but maybe we could start with being friends again?"

JJ gave her a small, hopeful smile. "I’d like that. I really would."

They sat there in the quiet, the tension between them still lingering but starting to ease. For the first time in months, Y/N felt like she could breathe again, knowing that the one person who knew her better than anyone was sitting right beside her. And maybe, just maybe, they could find their way back to each other. Slowly. But surely.

As the night settled in, the two of them talked—about the trip, about the past, and about what might come next. It wasn’t perfect, but it was a start. And for the first time in a long while, Y/N felt a flicker of hope that things could be okay again.

They weren’t just strangers anymore. They were still *them*—and that was all that mattered.

[ghost-bard]

how do i talk about taash being a realistic character while also acknowledging that they absolutely couldve and shouldve been written better in every aspect

[martyrbat]

hm hm hm i feel like this will be really interesting to read with the knowledge of korra and how that effected her instead.... because korra (from my limited knowledge so i could be talking out my ass here) knew she was the avatar at an early age and DID get that community. she had katara and her parents, she had her mentors, she was isolated from the real world during so and perfected the elements other than air (which i kinda recall her struggling with and how its the opposite element of earth so im excited to see if those kinda play out :3) and she was more eager to be the avatar and the excitement and significance it brought (which was a bit clouded by her being sheltered but also would have been expected more before the war impacted things)

i also remember matty saying kyoshi struggled with earth bending (which im super excited to get to and see/see her journey and how it will differ) but!!! i just think its really fun how theyre kinda off the bat setting up this expectation and new grounding for readers who have a past grasp of the avatar universe. even as someone who isnt super familiar with the lore, i know enough to recognize that oh! thats something new!! so just kudos to the writer(s?) for just setting this up to be something very different and in a natural way :3

[bisexualmaedhros]

transfem furries hornyposting online about the relatively niche/"out there" things they're into have inadvertently helped me accept myself more than the body positivity movement of the 2010s ever did

[almadelsur]

💋 The Secrets One Keeps

summary: You're in love with jj but he's with kie, so in moments of pure desperation you often find yourself turning to the person he hates the most...rafe

warnings: some good old angsty pining, very very slight smut if you squint, fem!reader, one or two uses of y/n, plz let me know if I missed anything

a/n: SHE'S BACKKKK, so I've decided to completely reformat and re-post this fic with a few tweaks and editing considering i first wrote this like 3 years ago, and yes for those of you who have been asking, I fully intend to finallly continue this fic....more info on that later ;)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・

JJ’s eyes change the moment Kiara steps into any room. Immediately his presence is ripped away from your immediate atmosphere, popping the little bubble you'd spent all afternoon crafting as he sprung up to greet the olive-skinned enigma that captured his affections.

“Kie!” The joy in his tone was incomparable to anything he’d directed at anybody else. Nothing could draw out such happiness from the blonde. You hated that about her.

In an attempt at self-defense, your brain shut itself off. Shielding you from processing the scene in front of you, your emotions ran cold like cement pouring down and across your neurons. It was the only way you could survive such a beating to your heart.

You figured that by distancing yourself mentally, you wouldn’t have to raise suspicion and distance yourself physically. In reality, you knew the real reasoning was your inability to stay away from JJ but the facade helped you cope.

“Hey J” she embraced him and his body relaxed around her as if she was the only source of his happiness. The only way he’d find alleviation from what he perceived as a shitty life being through her. “Sorry I’m late my parents had me running like crazy at the wreck today.”

Scattered greetings filled the air from the rest of the pogues, yet you could only focus on the way his eyes fixated on her like she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

“Here come sit baby” he offered her the seat he had just previously been place holding. What you thought had been quality time with your best friend, presented itself to you now as momentary attention to pass the time until his actual desire arrived.

Settling herself down and offering you a wide smile, her shoulder bumped against yours gently as a sign of acknowledgment.

“Hey dude” she directed at you, but you didn’t reply. You just couldn’t bring yourself to pretend. Not today anyway. Instead, you offered her a small smile, it was minimal but it was the best you could do under the circumstances.

“Yo" A crumpled tissue paper flew at your head, jj attempting to refocus your attention on him, "didn’t you say you were gonna get some water or something?” He spoke up, the scheme evident in his tone.

“um yeah I guess” You lifted yourself up and took a few steps before jj used the opportunity to slump himself down where you had been sat and sprawled his arms across his girlfriend’s shoulders.

“snooze ya loose sucker” he joked as he turned to Kiara to start up some mindless conversation. Leaving you behind in the dust.

Your teeth gritted as you focused on making your way to the kitchen hoping the distance from the scene unfolding would lift the iron grip on your heart.

You made the fatal mistake of glancing back and you were met with the image of jj nuzzling up to kiara in a picturesque display of love. The lump building at the base of your throat indicated that it was your time to get the hell out of there before you broke down in front of everyone. 

“Shit guys, y’know what I just realized I gotta go” You spoke quickly, your tone matching your pace as you rushed to the exit of the chateau. 

“You’re still coming to the party later though right?” John B asked, not tearing his eyes away from the screen in front of him. 

“Mhm yeah sure” you opened the door ready to depart. 

“Shit I forgot about that! Me and jj are gonna be late, we got dinner at the wreck tonight.” kiara added as you stepped out, unable to control the escape of a rogue tear.

“Date night babyyyy” You heard JJ cheer before you slammed the door behind you. 

“Is Y/N okay? She seemed a bit off.” Kie nudged JJ as she questioned. 

JJ furrowed his eyebrows momentarily. Glancing out the window, he saw you jog away from the house, and a brief flash of worry flashed through his mind. As quick as it came, it dissipated. He shook his head figuring that if there had been something wrong, he’d have been the first to know. 

“Nah she’s okay don't worry.” he offered to kie.

Boy was he mistaken. 

——————————————————————

“Fuuuck me” you moaned out, sinking into him one last time. You were hot, sweaty, and heaving as you pulled him out of you.

“I thought I just did” Rafe taunted leaning back to lie down, arms crossed behind his head causing his taut abdomen to flex.

You scrambled off the bed, picking up your garments and shoving them back on your body forcefully.

“What, no pillow talk?” He tried again.

“Rafe..” you trailed off. Whenever you’d finish fucking, you’d struggle to even look at him. The self-hatred flooded your body as soon as the orgasm poured out.

“Hey you called me” he eyed you intently but you knew he didn’t actually care. To rafe cameron everything was just a game. At this point it was pretty much common knowledge. “In fact” he moved closer to you so that he could speak directly into your ear “It’s always you that calls me.”

“Don’t be a dick” you stood up and eyed your heels contemplating whether you could face the walk back in them. “You know it makes me feel like shit.” It might have sounded brutal but that’s how things were with rafe.

“Yeah, it’s like you punctuate your orgasms with self-hate.”

“I'm a pogue, rafe.” You argued back as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“So? Kooks and pogues can fuck you know.” You couldn’t comprehend why you were even having this conversation. Why now, why tonight.

“Yeah maybe, not you though.” You didn’t want to tell him the reason explicitly.

“I fuck pogues.”

“You fuck anyone.” The words came out almost instantly and without thinking, yet rafe took no offense.

“Exactly so what’s the issue?”

“The issue is, rafe.” You paused trying to find the words without actually having to say the words. “The issue is that if my friends found out they’d hate me, probably more than I already hate myself.”

He just chuckled, the look in his eyes changing as he figured you out.

“What's funny?” You challenged.

“You don’t have to bullshit me princess.” He looked up at you with a devilish glint in his eye. “You just don’t want jj knowing about your little escapades huh?” Bingo.

“He’s with Kiara.” You shrugged him off.

“Uh huh, you like him but you can’t have him.” Every word he spoke striking a nerve deep within you. “So you’re fucking me to fuck him over.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” You grabbed your heels and shoved them on, wincing as you buckled them up.

“Don’t I?” He threw his joggers on lazily as he stood, the level dynamics changing significantly. The older boy towered over you. “Where are they tonight?”

“Back at John B’s, we had a little get-together.” You crossed your arms. More often than not you usually called rafe after a few drinks left you feeling lonely. “Sorry, your invite must have gotten lost in the mail.” You attempted to jab at him with sarcasm yet he clearly held the upper hand with his line of questioning. 

“So all of them are there now?” He stepped towards you.

“Mhm,” You lied.

“Even jj?” Moving closer until your neck was craned upwards to meet his eyes.

Taking your silence as an answer, he reached up and ran his palms across your upper arms, prompting you to uncross them.

“He was uh- him and kie should be getting there soon” You mumbled.

“So would i be wrong in guessing, that might have prompted your call then?” You let yourself be guided by his movements leaning your neck further back as his hand trailed up to your jawbone.

“rafe…” you called out insignificantly.

He leaned in and pressed his lips against your neck, right over where he could feel your pulse, and pressed down.

You couldn’t help the gasp that left your mouth. Because as much as your heart belonged to jj, rafe was just so fucking good at raising your temperature.

“Round two?” He mumbled against your neck.

“Yeah..” you attempted yet it came out as a whisper. He grabbed you swiftly and lifted you, moving you across the room and throwing you down onto his bed, crawling on top of you in a predatory manner as he did so. As your back hit the bed, the ringing of your phone brought you back from the haze he had you under. 

“Wait rafe stop stop” you pushed him off and grabbed the screeching mobile, pressing it up to your ear. “Hello?”

“Dude, where are you?” The sound of jj’s voice came through over the pumping sound of music and party chatter. “Me and Kie just got back and John B says no one’s seen you for like over an hour.”

“Oh I’m uh, I had to go do something for my mom” The lie pouring out of your mouth caused rafe to chuckle which was of course met by a slap from you signaling for him to be quiet.

“Oh well, when are you getting back? I have to tell you about this date. You’re gonna be so proud of me I actually think I’m ready to tell Kie I love her” you screwed your eyes shut as he spoke.

“Yeah I- you know what I can’t make it back my mom needs me to stay and help out but uh I’ll see you tomorrow or something.” You hung up before he could even reply, throwing your phone down uncaring of its state.

“What’s wrong? They getting hitched?” Rafe spoke up from behind you.

You turned to Rafe, the fire in your veins pushing your arms to grab him, roughly pulling him back onto you.

“Just shut up and fuck me rafe.”

And fuck you he did.

——————————————————————

The next morning you woke up to the sight of rafe’s bare back. Not much of a cuddler, you figured.

Quietly you pushed the covers off and began to dress yourself back up. As you got to your shoes you sighed and shook your head, as if there was any way in hell you were going to walk home in heels. You scooped up your shoes and your now-cracked phone shaking your head, slightly ashamed at your outburst.

Without even a second glance at the sleeping body you were leaving behind, you made your way over to the door. As you turned the knob and stepped out to leave, a husky voice spoke up.

“I’ll keep my ringer on for you babe.”

You rolled your eyes looking back at him, “Fuck you rafe.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m counting on.” He didn’t even open his eyes as he answered, instead just rustling around in the bed and turning to the other side, once again facing his back to you.

You scoffed as you exited. Your internal rant clouded your vision, body on autopilot with an excellent self-navigation of the Cameron house from the countless times you’d made this exit.

“Y/N?” The gentle voice wiped your thoughts clean as the shock stilled you dead in your tracks, slowly turning to come face to face with none other than Sarah.

“Sarah” you drawled out. “What are you doing here?”

“It’s my house?” Her head was cocked to the side, equally shocked to see you.

“No I just mean- I thought you were spending the night at John B’s.” You forced the small talk, avoiding the topic of why you were here, sneaking out at 8 in the morning.

“He had to work today, did you spend the night here?” She glanced up at the door of rafe’s bedroom.

“Umm-“ There had only been two other instances where you had been at a complete loss for words. The day jj told you he and Kiara were dating, the morning after your first sexual encounter with rafe, and now this.

“Are you sleeping with my brother?!” She whisper-shouted, eyes wide as the realization hit her. Busted.

“No?”

“Oh my god!” She grabbed you by the wrist and dragged you to her room, slamming the door as soon as you were both inside. “How long has this been going on?!” Her tone was loud and her hands wild as she interrogated you.

“Just a little under a year.” You sat on her bed and looked at your lap as you spoke. Reminiscent of a child being scolded.

“A year?! Oh my god!” She repeated. “Who knows about this?!”

With that, you looked up at her desperately. “No one. No one knows so please don’t tell them.” You didn’t have to name names for her to know who you were referring to.

“Are you two like” she paused “together?” She scrunched her nose up, disgusted at the thought of her bully of an older brother dating anyone.

“No god no. It’s just sex” you were just as uncomfortable as Sarah was, having to tell her about boning her older brother.

“Disgusting.” She turned away from you with her arms crossed, looking out the window.

“Look I’m not proud of it okay? Just-“ You sighed “Just please don’t tell anyone” pleading again.

Sarah let out a long sigh and uncrossed her arms. She walked over to you and joined you on the bed, her eyes showing concern mixed with something you couldn’t quite place your finger on.

“I thought you were into jj” she spoke softly, there it was. Pity.

“Yeah well, jj is with kie and instead of sitting around wallowing in self-pity, I decided to do something about it.” As the words left your mouth, you realized how weak the explanation was.

“So you just use rafe to bang the jj out of you.”

“It’s not like Rafe cares, if anything he’s also using me.” You tried to reason.

“I don’t doubt that. But I mean, that’s- It’s not healthy, you’ll never move on if you don’t actually process your emotio-“

“Look Sarah, I don’t need to do any of that shit okay? What I have here works, when I fu- when I’m with rafe, I don’t think about jj.” Tears began to swell in your eyes “Sleeping with rafe helps me forget about everything, even if it’s only for a little while he uh- he makes me feel good.” To an extent, there was truth behind your words, while you and rafe fucked the rest of the world went away. It was only after, that the crippling self-hatred hit you along with the return of your immense feelings for jj. 

Sarah shuffled over and threw her arm around you. “That’s not good for you, it’s just momentary. It’s easy and it's a cycle, you’re never going to get better going down this path. Especially not with rafe.”

“Rafe he’s- he’s not that bad.”

“Yes he is. But i bet it gives you satisfaction fucking him knowing jj hates him. Feels like revenge right?” She’d always been so perceptive your Sarah, you hated how she could see right through you.

Tears ran down your cheek silently. “You’re not gonna tell anyone right?” You sniffled.

She gave you one of those classic salt-of-the-earth Sarah Cameron smiles, the kinda smile that would light up any room she walked into. “Takin' it to the grave babe.”

A loud beeping caused both your heads to whip towards the window. “Shit, I completely forgot I was supposed to go on the HMS with pope and jj, we were gonna chill there until John B and Kie finished work.” She rose to her feet and extended an arm towards you. “Wanna come? Or we could drop you home if you’re not up for it.”

With a sigh you took her hand and pulled yourself up, walking beside her as you mentally prepped yourself to face the blonde you desperately pined for.

“Well rise and shine campers.” jj yelled out of the window of the drivers seat.

“Y/N! Where you been dude? you totally bailed last night.” Pope was next to speak as you and Sarah filed into the Twinkie. As JJ began to drive you avoided any form of eye contact in his general direction.

“I had to go help my mom out, blackout at mine again.” You didn’t even look at pope either, instead focusing your attention on the blur of trees and houses pacing by the window as JJ sped down the winding roads.

“Isn’t that what you were wearing last night?” pope, observant as always, pointed out.

“Uh yeah, I didn’t really get any time to change cause…”

“I called her last night when I got home, I was so drunk I don’t think I was ready to stop the party.” Sarah covered for you.

“Yeah I wrapped up helping my mom out and then this one calls me talkin bout a sleepover or something so I didn’t exactly have much time to change.” 

Thankfully pope had lost interest as soon as he had asked the question, otherwise, your overcompensating ass would have been caught out straight away. You always had to add to the lie until you felt like you had sold it completely.

Keeping your eyes trained on the outside meant that jj’s frown directed at you through the windscreen mirror went completely undetected. He always knew whenever there was something up with you and right there and then he knew something definitely was.

“Hey, you okay?” He didn’t need to address you explicitly for you to know he was talking to you.

“Yeah just tired.” You shrugged him off in an attempt to distance yourself from him yet again.

He knew you were lying but he didn’t understand why, you never lied to each other. Apart from John B, the pair of you were closer to each other than with anybody else in the group. You’d been best friends since kindergarten, and since then you’d sworn 3 things to each other.

1- You’d always share your snacks.

2-You’d always be best friends even if you argued.

 3- You would never ever lie or keep secrets from each other.

Of course, as the both of you grew older the rules became more and more lax. The snack sharing was limited only to when you felt nice enough and sometimes you’d go for days without making up if you had argued particularly badly. Having kept two friendship-breaking secrets from him, the childhood rules seemed pretty insignificant by now.

“Mhm,” he responded, flickering his eyes between you and the road. “Are we taking you home to change first?”

“Yeah, I don’t know if I’ll join you guys afterward though.” You chewed down on your nail anxiously as the tension from being in the same space as jj paired with the guilt from having fucked rafe prior, suffocated you.

JJ made a face as he focused on the road, something was wrong with you and he’d be dammed if he wasn’t going to put his everything into finding out what that was.

[aliyahwritings]

ARE YOU JEALOUS?

Summary: Sassy!Kook!Reader gets jealous when she sees Rafe Cameron close with another girl...

Content: neck sucking (?), childhood friends to lovers, kind of mean!rafe in one scene, bullying lol, suggestive towards the end but just a tiny bit.

Words Count: 5.5k ... i don't know what the fuck happened...

Aliyah's talking: IDK if i fw this or not but i hope yall will lolz <3 Thank you so much for the love on Protective Instincts btw!!!! I am so grateful and surprised that many of you all enjoyed it. Hope u'll enjoy this one too 🩷

Sunlight streamed into Sarah’s room, casting a soft, golden glow over the space as you lounged on her bed, idly flipping through a magazine. You both were sprawled across the plush, yellow covers, surrounded by half-empty bags of chips and scattered makeup palettes—evidence of an afternoon well spent. Sarah was perched by the vanity, trying on different lip glosses, all of which looked beautiful on her, but she insisted on which one was the best.

“So, tell me again,” she started, holding up a tube of shimmery pink gloss and squinting at it thoughtfully. “Why don’t you go for Jake? I mean, he’s cute, he’s smart—”

“And boring. He is boring,” you interjected, rolling your eyes with a laugh. “Come on, Sarah, you know how I am. I need someone with a little more… edge…? Someone that could handle me but also play the game, you know?”

Sarah smirked, setting the lip gloss down and turning to face you. “Edge… Handling your attitude… I’m afraid that weirdly sounds like someone we both know.”

“You think you’re so funny, huh?” you said, shooting her a mock glare.

She laughed, completely unbothered. "What? I’m just stating the facts!" She shrugged, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "As much as I hate to admit it, my brother definitely fits both criteria, so…”

You were listening to her but stopped when your phone buzzed. Out of habit, you unlocked it and opened the notification from Instagram; Topper posted a new story and you watched it. The screen was filled with a shaky video of the beach, the late afternoon sun casting golden light over everything. You recognized some people, but your attention zeroed in on Rafe, right in the center of it all. He was grinning, his arm slung around a girl who was laughing and pulling him closer, like they were the only two people on the beach. 

You felt a quick, unwelcome pang in your chest.

“Hey, what’s got you so interested?” Sarah’s voice broke through your thoughts, and you glanced back at her, masking any hint of emotion with a casual smirk.

You locked the screen and tossed the phone aside. “Nothing. Just Topper’s beach parties and Instagram stories.”

She gave you a skeptical look, folding her arms. “Don’t lie to me. I know you better than yourself, what did you see in that story, Y/N?”

You hesitated, but then shrugged, trying to play it off. “Rafe was at the party with some girl. A new girl. It’s not a big deal.”

“Ah, I see,” she said with a raised eyebrow. “You know he’s always messing around with someone new. But… I thought you didn’t care about what he was up to.”

“I don’t,” you said, a bit too quickly, crossing your arms. “He can do whatever the hell he wants.”

“Right. So, you don’t care at all?”

You rolled your eyes, trying to suppress a smile. “Look, I just don’t get what’s so special about him that girls keep falling over themselves to be around him. That’s all.”

She nodded with a giggle. “Yeah, no, I definitely—”

“And doesn’t it bother anyone that he’s got a new girl every week? I mean, if I were one of those girls who actually liked him, I’d be furious. Wouldn’t you, Sar?” You barely paused before continuing, not even waiting for her answer. “It’s honestly just sad because Rafe really isn’t even all that. Sure, he can be fun and nice sometimes, but he’s also a huge asshole with a big fucking ego. Is it just me, or is everyone blind to that?”

Sarah was quiet for a moment, studying you with a thoughtful expression before she finally spoke up. “You know what? I think we could both use a break from overthinking anything about the opposite sex. How about we get out of here and grab some smoothies? I heard there’s a new spot by the marina.”

You nodded, grateful that she didn’t talk about your little moment. “Yeah, let’s go.”

Sarah grabbed her bag, giving you one last teasing smile. “Smoothies and maybe some retail therapy afterward?”

“Sounds like a plan,” you replied, letting the idea of a carefree afternoon replace the lingering thoughts of Rafe. Whatever he was up to, it was his business. You weren’t about to let it ruin your day.

The soft hum of the fridge and the rhythmic clinking of silverware filled the kitchen as you, Sarah, and Rafe gathered around the island, your weekly routine as ingrained as the family photos lining the walls. The night was settling in, casting a cozy stillness over the room. You were only half-listening as Sarah rambled on about her weekend plans, your attention instead focused on pushing pasta around on your plate, not particularly hungry.

Rafe sat across the counter, leaning back in his chair with an ease that always seemed to irritate you. He had been quiet, too but you knew he wouldn’t last long. Sure enough, he broke the silence.

“Alright,” he began, raising an eyebrow at you, “what’s up with you tonight? You’re awfully quiet.”

You didn’t look up, keeping your tone purposefully casual. “Nothing’s up,” you replied, hoping he’d let it go. But you knew better.

“Come on,” he pressed, tilting his head in that infuriatingly smug way. “Where’s that feisty attitude you always have? Usually, by now, you’d have already made at least five smartass comments about my shirt or something.”

You let out a short, unimpressed laugh, finally meeting his gaze with a raised eyebrow. “Maybe I just ran out of things to say about you, Rafael. Ever think of that?”

He grinned, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Nah. You’ve got an endless supply of attitude, Y/N. I’d be shocked if you were ever actually out of material.” He took a sip from his glass, watching you over the rim with that familiar, infuriating smirk.

Sarah shot you a look, her mouth twisted in a tired smile as she mouthed, here we go. She had seen this routine a thousand times before.

“You really think I spend that much time thinking about you?” you fired back, folding your arms over your chest and fixing him with an unimpressed stare.

“Oh, I don’t think,” he replied smoothly, leaning in a little closer, “I know. Admit it. I’m in your head, aren’t I?”

You let out an exaggerated sigh, leaning back in your chair as you tossed him an indifferent look. “Right. You’re the center of my world, Rafe. Can’t you tell?”

He chuckled, clearly enjoying this. “You know, when you’re this quiet, it’s like a fucking flashing neon sign saying, ‘Something’s up’. Might as well tell me now.”

You rolled your eyes. You knew that engaging with him like this was a slippery slope—once you started, he never let up. But for some reason, tonight, you couldn’t help yourself.

“Honestly, I don’t have the energy for your little mind games tonight,” you said, trying to sound as bored as possible. “So, if you’re expecting me to entertain you, you’re gonna be disappointed.”

“Oh, come on. I don’t believe that for a second,” he shot back, leaning back casually in his chair as if he had all the time in the world to wear you down. “You love this. Sparring with me? It’s basically your favorite hobby.”

You scoffed, shaking your head. "Didn’t realize my silence was such a tragedy for you.”

“Oh, it is. I mean, where else am I supposed to get my daily dose of attitude?” He leaned back, feigning a pout. “Come on, you’re no fun like this. Did something happen?”

You rolled your eyes, twirling your fork in the pasta as if it held your entire focus. “Why would you care? I’m sure you have more important things to worry about. Maybe more girl—”

Sarah let out a sigh, interrupting before Rafe could respond. “Honestly, do you two ever get tired of this? We’re supposed to be having dinner, and it feels like I’m watching some sort of weird rom-com.”

You shot Sarah an exasperated look. “There’s nothing romantic about this, Sar. It’s called surviving.”

“Right,” Sarah said, clearly unconvinced. “But could you maybe survive without the constant bickering? Just once?”

Rafe smirked, clearly unfazed by Sarah’s comment as he turned back to you. “I don’t know. I think she secretly enjoys it. You should see how she lights up when she gets going.”

“Fuck off,” you muttered, taking a long sip from your glass and hoping it would mask the heat you could feel rising in your cheeks.

He watched you with an amused glint in his eye, clearly picking up on your discomfort. “A little defensive, aren’t we? I mean, I’m just stating the obvious here. You’ve been on edge all night. Care to share with the class what’s really bothering you?”

You set your glass down with a little more force than necessary, fixing him with a glare. “You really think everything’s about you, don’t you?”

“Not everything,” he replied, shrugging casually. “Just the things that involve you. Because, for some reason, every time you’re in a mood, it usually has something to do with me.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but then closed it again, unsure of how to respond without giving anything away. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he’d hit a nerve, even if he had.

“What’s the matter, princess?” he continued, pushing his plate aside as he leaned forward, his eyes never leaving yours. “Did something happen between you and Jake, huh? I thought you two were casually talk—”

You groaned, frustrated that he’d brought Jake into it. “There’s nothing to say about Jake. I’m just tired, okay? Not everything has to be about some guy.”

“Oh, I’m aware,” Rafe replied, his tone laced with a hint of smugness. “But I’d say you’re a little more…on edge than usual. So, it has to be about that guy, right…”

“Jake’s got nothing to do with this,” you said, your tone steady. “Unlike you, he actually knows how to mind his own business.”

Well, you’re just lying because you’ve never taken the time to actually learn about Jake and what type of person he was. As bitchy as it sounded, you were using him as a distraction.

You stared at him, hoping your silence would be enough to make him drop it. But, of course, he didn’t.

Rafe crossed his arms as he studied you, his gaze never wavering. “So, you’re saying you prefer a guy who lets you get away with whatever you want, then?”

You scoffed. “No, Rafe. I am saying I prefer a guy who doesn’t feel the need to stick his nose into everything I do. You know, a guy who’s secure enough to let me be without constantly needing to provoke me.”

“Yeah, I see,” he replied, nodding softly. “So, basically, you’re looking for someone boring. Someone who doesn’t challenge you, who just lets you coast by. Am I right?”

You let out a dry laugh, shaking your head. “You think you know me so well, don’t you? Don’t flatter yourself, Cameron. I can find someone else to annoy me if I really wanted to.”

Rafe’s eyes darkened, but that infuriating smirk stayed in place, like he thrived on every bit of tension between you. He cocked an eyebrow, leaning forward, his voice a low, taunting whisper. “Oh yeah? Who, exactly? Jake? He’s perfect for you—goody-two-shoes, never steps out of the fucking line. Because, let’s be honest, you’d crush him. He’d never call you out, never push you.” He paused, and there was a bitterness beneath his words, hidden but unmistakable. “He’d be safe.”

A bitter smile twisted your lips, the pain creeping into your voice despite your best efforts. “At least Jake knows how to be respectful. He wouldn’t stoop to tearing me down just to get a rise. He wouldn’t need to.”

Rafe scoffed, his amusement tinged with a hint of anger. “Respectful? Fuck that. You want someone to play nice and tell you what you want to hear, go right ahead. But I think we both know that’s not what you really want.” He took a step closer, his gaze fierce, challenging. “You think I’m the bad guy because I’m not afraid to tell you the truth. I don’t play pretend. I’m not here to tell you sweet lies—I’d rather see who you really are, even if that means pissing you off.”

You narrowed your eyes, fury blazing in your chest. He was looking right at you, like he could see through every layer you tried so hard to put up. But there was something deeper in his gaze, a flicker of something that made your heart race even as anger burned within you. And you hated that he could do that—make you feel so exposed, so raw, yet so alive all at once.

But to him, this was just another game. He thrived on your frustration, on the way he could get under your skin with just a few well-placed words. It was a twisted power play, a battle neither of you were willing to lose. And for a moment, the air between you was charged, almost electrifying, the tension so thick it was nearly suffocating. 

You wanted to hate him, but a part of you couldn’t help but wonder if he was right—if he really did see through to the parts of you that no one else dared to touch.

But that only made you angrier, and you felt a surge of resentment rise within you, pushing you over the edge. With a sudden flash of fury, you slammed your fists onto the table, the sound echoing through the room, your voice sharp and cutting. “You know what? Fuck you, Rafe Cameron.”

Without another word, you turned and stormed out.

The sound reverberated through the Cameron household, leaving a heavy silence. Rafe stood there, fists clenched, trying to swallow down the mix of anger and something else—something that felt dangerously close to longing.

Sarah raised an eyebrow at her brother. “You’re a fucking asshole, you know that?”

Rafe shot her a look, irritation simmering just beneath the surface. “You don’t get it, Sarah. She’s… She’s infuriating.”

But then he hesitated, his gaze drifting toward the door you had just stormed out of. The edge of his lips twitched in a way that was all too vulnerable, too honest. “But there’s something about her,” he admitted, his voice softening. “She’s fierce and passionate. When she’s angry, it’s like she’s alive in a way I can’t help but be drawn to. It’s frustrating, but… but she’s not afraid to challenge me, to call me out.” He paused, searching for the right words, his heart racing.

“And so that makes it right for you to annoy her to that point?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I can’t help it. I want her to see the real me, too. It’s like I can’t breathe when she’s around and then—when she leaves? It’s like the air just… disappears.” He ran a hand through his hair, a mix of confusion and desire etched across his features. “She challenges me in ways I never expected, and it drives me insane, but I can’t help but want more of her.”

“Wow,” Sarah said softly, her voice full of surprise. “I didn’t think I’d see the day Rafe Cameron talked about someone like this—but mess around with her like that one more time, and I’ll hurt you.”

The sun spilled into your bedroom, casting a warm glow that felt inviting. But you stirred, still brimming with the tumult of emotions from last night. Rafe’s words echoed in your mind—his teasing, the way he pushed your buttons, and the way your heart raced despite your annoyance. You groaned and rolled over, pulling the blanket over your head, hoping to drown out the memories.

But then laughter broke through the haze of your thoughts. It was bright and carefree, drifting in through the open window. Intrigued, you tossed off the blanket and slid out of bed, your curiosity piqued. A quick glance outside revealed the source of the joyful sounds: Sarah, Wheezie, and Rafe were out by the pool, splashing water and playfully throwing each other around.

Rafe, wearing nothing but swim trunks that hung low on his hips, was the centerpiece of the scene, effortlessly drawing your gaze. His tanned skin glimmered, accentuating the muscles that rippled as he dove and surfaced in the water, laughter spilling from his lips, infectious and buoyant.

You caught yourself ogling him, eyes roaming over the way the water dripped from his hair, the way his body moved with ease and confidence. It wasn’t fair, really—how could someone be so effortlessly captivating? The sun caught the edges of his grin as he tossed Wheezie playfully into the pool, the sound of her laughter ringing out like music.

You were lost in the moment, so caught up in the heat of his gaze that you didn’t even notice the way your thighs clenched together, craving the contact that felt just out of reach. All you could think about was the overwhelming desire to touch him—everywhere. You imagined your hands gliding over his toned chest, feeling the hard flex of his biceps beneath your fingertips, tracing the lines of his powerful arms as they wrapped around your body, waist, and ass pulling you closer.

You wanted him. God, did you want him.

Why did he have this effect on you? Why was he constantly invading your thoughts, even now?

A sudden buzz from your phone pulled you from your reverie. You grabbed it from the bedside table and saw a message from Sarah: “Get your ass out here! We’re in the pool, it’s fun! You’ll want to join us!”

A smile tugged at your lips at Sarah's enthusiasm, but a moment of hesitation passed as you remembered the tension of last night. Still, you didn’t want to be the odd one out. With a determined sigh, you pulled yourself away from the window and began to get ready.

You rummaged through your drawers, searching for that one bikini that made you look stunning and earned you a handful of compliments every time you wore it. Finally, you found it: a deep emerald green that contrasted perfectly against your skin tone. It was cut high, accentuating your legs, the top was daring, showing just enough to leave to the imagination. You paired it with a pair of denim shorts.

You headed towards the back door, nerves swirling in your stomach. As you stepped outside, the head of the sun hit you like a wave, and the sounds of laughter grew louder.

“You’re awake!” Sarah exclaimed, her voice bright and cheerful. “I thought we’d have to drag you out here!”

You laughed lightly, feeling a playful energy surge within you. “I’m here, aren’t I?” You shot back, trying to keep your tone light as you made your way toward the pool.

Wheezie exclaimed, eyes wide of admiration. “Wow, Y/N! Look at you!”

“Thanks!” you replied, trying to play it cool but secretly loving the attention. You glanced at Rafe, who had turned to face you, and your heart raced at the sight of him leaning against the pool’s edge, water cascading down his toned body.

His gaze lingered on you, a mix of surprise and appreciation playing across his features. “Well, well, if it isn’t the queen herself,” he teased, that infuriating smirk stretching across his face. “Nice of you to join us.”

You rolled your eyes and turned your back to him, feigning indifference as you busied yourself with anything but him. The events of last night were still fresh in your mind, a heated clash that left you reeling and more than a little irritated. You were determined not to give him the satisfaction of a reaction.

“Oh, so I get the silent treatment?” he drawled, his voice dripping with playful disbelief. “I’m devastated,” he added, the corner of his mouth quirking up in that infuriatingly irresistible smirk that always made your heart flutter.

Instead, you focused on Sarah and Wheezie, who were gleefully splashing water at each other. You couldn’t help but feel the pull of their energy. 

Hours rolled by and you settled onto a lounge chair, you could feel Rafe’s eyes on you, the heat of his gaze igniting your skin in a way that both thrilled and annoyed you. He was still in the pool, looking at you like he wanted to eat you alive. You didn’t know but you were driving him crazy with that attitude of yours, this whole ignoring thing and your fucking bikini. 

Sarah and Wheezie went inside the house to prepare some snacks and drinks for us because we were getting hungry and thirsty, leaving only Rafe and you. 

You pulled your phone, pretending to scroll through social media, anything to distract yourself from the way your heart raced at his presence. A notification lit up your phone, and your heart skipped a beat when you saw Jake’s name flash across the screen. The excitement surged through you as you opened the message:

"Hey, gorgeous. I really like you, and I’d love to take you out sometime. You in?"

He was cute—way too cute.

A grin crept onto your lips, and for once, you allowed yourself to enjoy the attention from someone who wasn’t toying with your emotions. Someone who actually seemed genuine. No games, no mixed signals. Just interest. The kind that felt refreshing after dealing with someone who never seemed to know what he wanted.

You barely had time to revel in it before Rafe’s voice cut through the moment, sharp and demanding. “What’s got you smiling like that?”

Your grip tightened on your phone instinctively, and you flicked your gaze up to him, feigning nonchalance. “Oh, nothing. Just a friend,” you said, slipping your phone screen down against your thigh.

Rafe wasn’t buying it. His eyes narrowed, skepticism written all over his face. “Just a friend, huh?” His voice had that dangerous edge to it, the one you knew too well. “Funny, you don’t usually smile like that over friends.”

You felt his eyes burning into you, but you refused to give him the satisfaction. “Really? Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think,” you teased, biting back the smirk threatening to break free.

Rafe’s jaw clenched. “Who was it?”

“Like I said, just a friend,” you repeated, your voice smooth, but now you were teasing on purpose. You could feel his irritation rising, and part of you enjoyed it. “What, are you jealous or something?”

He scoffed, though you didn’t miss the way his eyes darkened. “Why the hell would I be jealous?” he snapped, though it sounded more like he was trying to convince himself than you. “I’m just asking a question.”

“Uh-huh.” You raised an eyebrow, leaning back and tilting your head, watching him closely. “Right. Just a casual question, huh? Totally doesn’t sound like someone’s jealous.”

His hands were now resting on the edge of the pool, gripping it just a little too tightly. “I’m not jealous,” he repeated, but the way his gaze darted to your phone said otherwise. “But if it’s someone trying to get at you, then yeah, I wanna know. Who is it?”

“Someone,” you said vaguely, enjoying the fact that Rafe was teetering on the edge of losing it. “Someone who’s interested, clearly.”

Rafe’s eyes flared, and the jealousy in his voice became impossible to miss. “Interested in what? You?” His lips curled into a scowl, his muscles tense. “What, you think some random guy’s gonna—”

“Maybe,” you cut in, your smile growing. “Maybe he’s actually straightforward, you know? No mind games, no drama. Just a guy who knows what he wants.”

His brows shot up, the implication stinging. “And you think I don’t know what I want?”

You shrugged, not backing down an inch. “Well, you never seem to make it that clear. Maybe someone else is going to take your place as my—”

The possessiveness in his eyes flared. He pushed himself up out of the pool, water dripping from his shoulders as he moved closer, his presence looming over you. “No one’s stepping up, got it? No one’s taking my place.”

You met his gaze, unflinching, even as your heart raced a little faster. “Oh? And what exactly is your place, Rafe?”

He leaned in, the heat between you practically crackling. “You know damn well where my place is,” he murmured, his voice low, daring, yet with a hint of uncertainty creeping in. “And I’m not about to let some bitch ass slide in because you think I don’t care.”

You smiled, tilting your head, savoring the tension. “Seems like you do care. Maybe more than you want to admit.”

“Because I do care, Y/N,” he murmured softly, swiping his wet thumb across your cheek. “I told you already that I cared way too damn much.”

Rafe’s thumb lingered on your cheek, the warmth of his touch sending shivers through your body despite the heat of the day. His eyes held yours, dark and intense, as if he were trying to convey all the words he couldn’t quite say aloud. The air between you was thick, charged with a tension that had been building for far too long.

You swallowed hard, trying to hold onto some semblance of control, but it was a losing battle. “Your way of showing it is fucked, Rafe.”

Your words were meant to cut, but they came out softer than you intended, almost like a challenge. His jaw tightened, but instead of snapping back with some cocky retort, he stepped even closer. The scent of chlorine and his skin invaded your senses, and you couldn’t help but notice how his muscles tensed as he towered over you, dripping with water, his presence commanding.

“I care,” he repeated, his voice lower now, almost a growl. His eyes flicked down to your lips and back to your eyes, like he was making a decision in real time. “I care more than you know.”

Before you could muster a reply, his hand slid from your cheek to the back of your neck, pulling you just a little closer, your breath hitching as his lips hovered near your ear. “I think you know exactly what my place is,” he murmured, his voice rough with unspoken desire. “And you’re not running from it.”

His breath was hot against your skin, sending a wave of heat cascading down your spine. He didn’t move right away, as if savoring the tension that crackled between you, the nearness, the inevitability of it all. Your heart pounded in your chest, your pulse quickening as his lips brushed, ever so lightly, against the sensitive spot just below your ear.

You gasped, your hands instinctively gripping the fabric of your shorts as your body reacted to him, heat pooling low in your belly. “Rafe…” you whispered, not quite a protest, but not quite giving in either.

But he wasn’t about to back down now. He shifted closer, his mouth grazing the curve of your neck, soft at first, then firmer, the scrape of his teeth making your pulse race. Your skin ignited under his touch, and a low moan escaped your lips before you could stop it.

“You feel that?” he whispered, his lips trailing lower, his voice husky and thick with need. “That’s not some game. That’s real.”

Your body arched toward him of its own accord, your resistance melting as his hands slid down to your waist, fingers pressing firmly into your skin, pulling you closer. You could feel the heat of his breath on your neck, his lips teasing, torturing, as they brushed along your collarbone. Every touch, every whisper was setting your nerves alight, and you were dizzy with the intensity of it.

“You’re such an ass,” you muttered, trying to keep a shred of control, but your voice lacked conviction.

He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your skin. “Maybe,” he agreed, his lips brushing the spot just beneath your ear again, sending a fresh wave of shivers down your spine. “But you can’t stop thinking about me, can you?”

You hated how right he was. You hated how easily he could unravel you, how even now, you were leaning into his touch, craving more of it. But there was no way you were giving him the satisfaction of hearing it.

“Stop being so cocky,” you managed to whisper, though your voice wavered with the desire that coursed through you.

But Rafe wasn’t in the mood to stop. His hand slid to your lower back, pulling your body flush against his, the coolness of his skin mingling with your own heat. You could feel the hard lines of his body pressed against yours, his chest rising and falling as his lips grazed your shoulder, his teeth scraping lightly against your skin, just enough to make you shudder.

“Admit it,” he murmured against your neck, his voice a deep, rough command. “You want this.”

You closed your eyes, fighting to hold onto your last thread of self-control, but the tension between you was overwhelming, suffocating. His lips moved lower, placing slow, deliberate kisses along your collarbone, each one leaving a trail of fire in its wake. Your breath came in ragged gasps as your body betrayed you, leaning into him, craving the heat of his touch, the weight of his gaze, the way he made you feel like the only person in the world.

“Rafe…” you breathed, your voice barely audible, as his hand slid down to your hip, his fingers digging into your skin possessively. You could feel his breath on your neck, his lips hovering just above the place where your pulse raced beneath the surface.

“I want you, Y/N,” he whispered against your skin, his voice raw, filled with the desire that had been simmering between you for what felt like forever. “And I’m not letting anyone else have you.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, and before you could think better of it, your hands were in his hair, pulling him closer, your body aching for the contact you’d been denying yourself for so long.

Your lips collided with his in a heated rush, all the pent-up tension and desire finally unraveling between you. Rafe’s hands immediately gripped your hips, pulling you impossibly closer as he kissed you like he’d been waiting for this moment forever. His lips were demanding, rough and hungry, but there was a softness to the way he held you, like he wanted to savor every second. You melted into him, fingers tangling in his wet hair, feeling the slickness of the pool water on his skin as his body pressed against yours.

The taste of him, mixed with the faint tang of chlorine, was intoxicating. It was all-consuming, drowning out every rational thought. He kissed you like he was staking his claim, like he wanted to erase any trace of doubt from your mind, and for a moment, you let him. Your body responded instinctively, arching against his as his hands roamed down your back, gripping you tighter.

When you finally broke apart, both of you gasping for air, Rafe’s forehead rested against yours, his eyes dark with desire and something deeper—something more vulnerable. His chest heaved as he looked at you, his breath coming in ragged bursts. “I like you, Y/N,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. “I like you so much it drives me crazy. No more pretending.”

You stared into his eyes, searching for any hint of the cocky facade he usually wore, but it was gone. This was Rafe stripped bare, no teasing, no arrogance—just raw honesty. It made your heart race in a way that had nothing to do with the kiss.

Your breath caught in your throat as you considered what he was saying. Could you trust him? Could you really let your guard down and give in to this, knowing how easily he could hurt you?

But before you could overthink it, he kissed you again, slower this time, more deliberate. His lips moved against yours with a tenderness that made your chest ache, and all your doubts melted away. At that moment, it didn’t matter what had happened before, or what might happen after. All that mattered was how he made you feel right now—wanted, desired, seen.

Rafe pulled back, his thumb brushing gently against your bottom lip, his eyes flicking between yours. “Tell me you feel it too,” he whispered, his voice rough, almost pleading. “Tell me I’m not the only one. Tell me, princess.”

You swallowed hard, your heart hammering in your chest. There was no point in pretending anymore. “You’re not,” you admitted, your voice barely a whisper. “You drive me crazy, Rafe, too—I don’t want to feel this way, but I do.”

His lips curved into a small, triumphant smile, but there was relief in his eyes too, like he’d been holding his breath, waiting for you to say it. “Good,” he murmured, his hand cupping your face as his thumb stroked your cheek. “Because I don’t think I can let you go.”

[biteyoubiteme]

black cherry flavored

ot5 txt x fem!reader

synopsis: how many ghostfaces are there again?

warnings: 🔞!!! gangbang, mentions of drinking, getting scared, fearplay? reader gets chased through house and doesnt know who it is, knifeplay (only used to cut off underwear), clit play, mean dom moments, filming during sex, slight breeding kink, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms (f!), creampie(s), marking, subspace, fingering, oral (m! rec), hair pulling!, overstim (f!rec), she/her used prob forgot some

wc: 9.2k (this one got away from me)

an: this is not proofread at all im so so so sorry forgive me sweet angel ily but I cannot believe october is over and this event has come to an end ;-; I hope you guys like this one! im a HUGE horror movie fan so I was excited to do this and hopefully it turned out well. I went with a different approach for a scream fic that was kinda based on different aspects from the movies and I hope you like it! feedback is appreciated :)) [m.list]

this is apart of my mini kinktober event check out the rest of the fics! [dumdum m.list]

"whats your favorite scary movie?"

You roll your eyes, hand coming up to cover the screen of your laptop. “Aren't you supposed to be doing your own work not pestering me about mine?” 

It was late in the night, the library dead silent besides the hum of the heater and faint typing on stiff keyboards. The door to the study space was cracked just enough to hear the elevator if it dinged, the indicator the floor would soon be closing for the cleaning staff. The clock on the wall told you it was close to one in the morning, only an hour away from the library being cleared and closed.  

“I'm avoiding the rest of my essay,” beomgyu shrugs, clicking his pen as a signal for an end to the line of questioning. “Annoying you just seemed like a better plan,” 

“Annoying all of us, I needed this done an hour ago,” yeonjun doesn't even look up from his laptop, glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose, lenses glossed over with the light from his screen, fingers speeding over the keys only to pause and jam the delete button. “Fuck, i lost my train of thought,” 

“It's already late, just turn it in tomorrow morning,” huening suggests, slouched back in his chair, thumbs nibbly swiveling on the joystick of his switch. “The syllabus said it was ten points off no matter how late after twelve you submit it,” 

“Don't talk to me right now, you got yours in on time. And I'm getting this done tonight whether I like it or not. I won't be able to handle looking at it tomorrow morning. the paper just won't get turned in at all if that happens,” yeonjuns back to typing furiously squinting at his laptop not noticing kais grin. 

“You should have listened to me about meeting up at nine, but nooo-” 

“Huening,” yeonjun warns. 

“I'm just saying…” 

Yeonjun picks up one of Soobin's scattered pens from the table, tossing it at Kai hitting him in the lap. And when Kai just laughs, Yeonjun picks up a few more to throw, the showering of pens making Kai yelp. 

“Shhh,” soobin doesn't even lift his head to see what's going on. He and tae had been trying to sleep for the better part of two hours, Taehyun having found success, sliding two chairs together to prop his legs up. He pulled his hat down over his eyes and hasn't said anything since closing them. Soobin only crossed his arms and laid his head down, leg bouncing showing he was still struggling to actually find it in him to sleep without his bed. 

The six of you usually booked the room on Friday nights from nine to two, blocking the time to try and catch up on work before the weekend. It was either the time you got the most work done or none at all. You're surprised it took beomgyu this long to finally turn away from his assignment at this point he's usually at the whiteboard doodling or trying to get everyone to play dirty hangman. 

It was easier to get all of you together here instead of one of your small dorms, the space hardly big enough for three people let alone six. In the library you didn't have to worry about cramming together, the fourth floors study spaces equipped with long tables and eight chairs. Out of the two libraries on campus this one didn't have many people visit often, especially not when the walk from any of the dorms was twice as long. The fourth floor was empty and quiet except for the group's laughter on nights you didn't worry about work. 

“You didn't answer that question,” beomgyu points out again, pointer finger pushing away your hand blocking the screen, “what's your favorite scary movie?” 

“I didn't answer it because I can't choose,” you confess, scrolling through the paper you're writing for class. 

“Is your homework twenty questions?” soobins voice is muffled, annoyed and sleep-ridden. 

“No-” 

beomgyu cuts you off before you could explain, brows scrunching as he reads. “Looks like it, this one is ‘what are the rules around sex’ there is no way this actually for your class,” 

“What?” this pulls soobins head up, the messy strands of his dark hair sticking up around his forehead. 

“Of course you wake up when you hear the word sex,” yeonjun quips, pursing his lips reading over his work on his screen. 

“No need to wake up you type so loud i couldn't fall asleep,” soobin says brushing his long fingers through his hair, you always noticed the later it got the grumpier he became, pouting lips and half lidded eyes always making an appearance after midnight. 

“It's for my film studies class. We’re learning about the rules of horror,” its clarification enough for soobin who nods but beomgyu lets his head tilt to the side, the vision of a question mark. 

“Rules? You can't just send a killer in, have them spill some blood, and call it a day?” 

“You could, but i'm sure it would follow a pattern, even without you realizing it,” scrolling through your work you pause on the first option. “First you have to think about the time period when the movie was filmed. Most of the popular ones ranged from the 80’s to the early 2000’s. A huge push in most cultures is the topics of sex, drugs, and money. It's the three things people try to control the most. Throw a bunch of badly behaving teens in with a psycho killer playing god and you can tell the masses how wrong something is. Like having sex,” 

“So wrong it would get you killed?” 

“Yup, in most, if not all, horror movies the people who have sex on screen or are known for sleeping around get killed off, leaving the poor virgin alive. Main characters who live to the end also don't drink, or do drugs. Rich people aren't safe, especially if you have a big empty house with lots of stairs, doors, and windows. The more for you to make the wrong decision not to exit from,” 

“Then who does live?” Kai asks, game paused in hand. 

“The girl next door lead, never her boyfriend, the camera man, unless you see him leave the group because you should never leave the group under any circumstances. But everyone else is fair game. Oh and if you say ‘i'll be right back,’ the lines a killer in and of itself,” 

“So I'd die because I like to have a good time?” yeonjun asks, fingers paused on his keys as he looks over at you. Everyone but tae is turned in your direction, listening intently. 

“Unless you're the killer, or lucky because you weren't in line of the camera when you decided it was smart enough to leave the house. It's very kill or be killed. Another rule is to never trust anyone,” 

“The list just gets longer and longer,” soobin sits back in his chair, arms crossed behind his head as he stretches, “you know i saw this one post on twitter that some people like the whole masked killer thing, gets them off,” 

“Of course you would be on twitter looking at stuff like that,” gyu fakes disappointment, shaking his head, “this is exactly why you wouldn't survive, you're a closeted perv,” 

“I don't know about closeted perv, he was openly scrolling past hentai the other day in the dorm,” yeonjun is back to typing, soobin kicking the foot of his chair. 

“Past it, i didn't pause on it,” 

“It was on your for you page! Clearly you have a habit of liking things akin to it,” 

“I don't know, I think it's kinda hot, the mask thing. or i guess more so the build up of fear, it's almost like foreplay, your pulse starts going, you get all flushed. And I did see this clip of these two guys dressed up…” this wouldn't be the first time any of you confessed to watching something that turned you on. All of you had been friends for years, growing up nothing had ever been an off limits topic. You can see the video in your head, the way they held the girl between them; how they manhandled her down onto the bed. 

“So you and soobin are both freaks,” beomgyu grins, the need to tease showing right in his eyes. 

“A threesome is not freaky,” Taehyun states, breaking his silence, hat still over his eyes, fully relaxed and laid back. If you hadn't known the sound of his voice you would have assumed he was still asleep, if he had even been asleep in the first place. 

“Agreed, anything over three is a little freaky,” soobin shrugs, bending over halfway out of his chair to pick up his fallen pens. 

“So would you? Sleep with more than two people at once?” gyu asks, the tilt back to his head, “this is the true test if you're freaky or not,” he chuckles. 

“I mean yeah… would you?” The question is directed at the room and you watch the question lay over them like fog, each of them thinking for a second, blank expressions all the way around.

Taehyun was the first to respond, shrugging his shoulders before nodding briefly, “I wouldn't let the opportunity slip by if it was offered,” It was a unanimous yes from all of them, the hummed agreement not too surprising. 

“Done!” yeonjun smashes one last key before stretching big, “finally fucking submitted, and right before we have to leave, im surprised the staff hasnt gotten around to our room yet to kick us out,”

Taehyun pulls his hat from his face, sitting up with a yawn, “good, i needed my bed two hours ago,” 

It always felt so good to sleep in on a saturday after a study session like this, you could already feel how cozy it would be to wrap up in your blanket. And even if the mattress was shit with or without the foam topper, it was better than laying out in the chairs like taehyun just was.  

All of you cleaned up the space, making sure to tuck in the chairs, pick up the discarded cups of late night bad decision coffee. Squishing in the elevator together, bags bumping into one another before you filed out; passing all the empty desks and empty aisles of books to make it out the front door. 

As soon as the outside air hits your cheeks you know it’s going to feel like a long walk back to the dorms. the boys tucking their ears into hoodies, zipping their jackets up, you and kai lived in the dorms on the opposite side of campus from the rest of them, their walk shorter by only a few minutes. 

“Okay we’re still on for dinner tomorrow right?” Kai asks the group. 

beomgyu’s jumping on the balls of his feet to try to generate some warmth. “literally just text us, I cannot think about tomorrow when i’m this cold and sleepy,”

“Yes, we’re still on, I've been craving anything other than dining hall food for the past week,” yeonjun adds, shivering as he pulls the straps of his bag closer to his chest. “We'll still meet up back here like usual,” he was walking backwards as he said it, already a few steps behind the others, “but see you guys tomorrow or should I say ‘i’ll be right back!’” he jokingly yells while the others wave goodbye. 

“don’t play jjunie, you might be next! don’t trust anyone!” He gives you a silent salute in response as you and Kai head out for your walk. 

Instinctively the two of you are shoulder to shoulder, bumping into one another every other step. Silence following each muffled step on the pavement. Sometimes the two of you didn't say anything until you split on the elevators. a quick ‘goodnight’ or ‘see you tomorrow’ thrown out as you step out on your floor, waving as the doors closed back up so he could go up one more level. Other nights it was the two of you giggling trying to keep it down as you walked under the moonlight, too late to be loud. 

You wrap your arms around yourself, shivering as the wind hits the treeline. spots of orange light from the spaced out street lights are rare, casting the two of you in darkness every time the moon is behind the clouds; every several feet the hash light is back in your path. 

“So you'd live? In a horror movie?” Kai asks, hands shoved deep into his pockets, shoulders to his ears from the cold. The wind is hitting him right in the face, tossing his hair from his eyes where he liked to keep it. He asks it so softly, the question highlighted in the divot of his brow, nose pink, face washed in the glow from the moon. 

“I'm not really a virgin so…,” it's not an embarrassing confession but when it's this late with his eyes trained solely on you it's like a spilled glass of red wine on white sheets. Impossible to look away from. 

“You wouldn't live for knowing how people survive?” 

“The smart ones usually die from bad luck, they know to head for the car waiting in the lot but forget the keys or if the keys are still in the ignition they never check the back seat. They know if you run into the woods to escape you can hide, but how unlucky for a rusty forgotten bare trap to be waiting for your next step. or if you miss that one here's a log to trip over, only to tumble down a hill and break your neck. Call the police? You're in the one movie a phone works only for you to forget never trust anyone because the police work for the killer,” 

“So none of us make it?” It's such an open question the way he asks it, the hopeful twinge hitting the ending, twisting it into something it shouldn't be. Written right over his features the soft words unsaid, can't we? There has to be a way.

“This isn't a movie kai, we’re fine,” 

“I know, it's only a question,” he's so easily flustered when alone, second guessing everything he says, as if one slip up will make you hate him. Now he's blushing, both of you falling back into comfortable silence. You can tell he's thinking by the way he's biting at his cheek, eyes watching his feet, making sure not to miss one step. You assume it's the end of what he has to say, his silence following you all the way back to your floor. The elevator doors opened finally giving him the courage to speak up. “Do you…” 

“Hum?” you lift your arm to hold the doors open, turned to see him struggling to get the words out. 

“Do you want to come with me to my parents cabin,” he says it all in a rush, avoiding looking you in the eyes just in case you reject him. “I mean you don't have to, the guys won't be there and if it makes you uncomfortable-” he cuts himself off, hand at the back of his neck, trying to rub away his embarrassment, “forget it- forget i said anything,” 

“It's okay, I'd love to go. where is it?” 

“Um it's like two hours from campus, my parents need me to check on it just cause and i thought, why not make a weekend of it? I mean, you can finally sleep on a real mattress, not whatever was issued here,” 

A weekend away did sound good, perfect after the semester you were having. And Kai is as sweet as they come, spending time with him wouldn't be bad at all. “Sure, when are you thinking?” 

“Next week?” 

It was all so very innocent, a sweet boy asking a girl to join him on a weekend getaway. He even packed you snacks for the drive, let you pick all the music, and made sure to carry your bag in when you arrived. 

You weren't stupid enough not to realize why you were here and the other boys didn't get an invite. The whole week you thought it over, pushing around the idea of being with him. And you could tell he was tossing it around all throughout the drive, periodically blushing without saying a thing to you, hands tightening on the steering wheel; knuckles turning white from the pressure. 

Halfway through the drive you realized exactly what he meant by cabin. Not the kind sitting near the edge of a trail, but one hidden deep into the woods for perfect seclusion. Kai had a late class to make up for and the two of you didn't get started on the drive until the sun was already setting behind the trees. Every shadow thrown across the road drew longer and longer as the car kept on. 

The gravel driveway leading up to the cabin was a stretch, but when you finally broke past the winding path the gleaming two story was not very cabin like. The windows reflecting the cars headlights back at you expanded most of the first level. Wraparound porch dotted with chairs, and a swinging bench. As soon as kai killed the engine the silence stumbled in, darkness spilling over the scene as you climbed out of your seat. 

“This place is huge,” you whisper, as if anything louder would disrupt the peace of the outdoors. You held your phone's flash up in front of you, huening fumbling to put the key into the lock on the first try. Each attempt from his shaking hand failed.

“Here,” you took the key into your own hand, twisting the knob and pushing the door open. 

“Sorry,” his voice wavering as he flips on the light switch, “i'm just- you know-,” he cuts himself off not wanting any more embarrassment to follow him. 

As soon as the lights come on you can't see anything outside, the windows a reflection of the room. A tv hanging over a huge stone fireplace, welcoming couches spaced out in a semi circle around a wooden coffee table, a bar topped with dusty glasses pushed in the corner. Kai kicks off his shoes by the door, walking further in you notice the dark hallway leading deeper into the first floor, a staircase waiting right by the entrance. But kai ignores it all while walking towards the kitchen. 

“I mostly have to check the doors and windows to make sure no one broke in,” he's trying to fill the silence, rambling to kill his nerves,”one year we had someone steal the tv, we don't really leave much now just incase, so that's why it looks so empty,” 

“People actually drive all the way out here and break in? The last time i saw a turn off the road before this one was an hour ago,” 

“You never know, it's best to just check and fill out a report sooner rather than later,” in the kitchen the backdoor is made of two foggy planes of glass, only the outline of kai seen in the weavering shape. He twists the knob and to your surprise it gives way and opens, “damn one of my sisters must have forgotten to lock it last they were here,” You lean your hip against the kitchen island, taking his explanation as is. 

“They come out here to check too?”

“Rarely they mostly come with their friends but stopped when they realized there is zero phone service this far out,” 

“There isn't?” you hadn't even checked to see if your phone was working, “what if someone had broken in? You have no phone to make a call from,” 

He chuckles pointing past your shoulder, right on the end of the counter a sleek black cordless landline rests in its holder, the blinking red light showing one waiting voicemail. “Sometimes it can be spotty but for the most part its a solid line of communication,” 

Hand still on the knob of the backdoor he locks the door before walking over to the pantry, finding only a crate of dusty wine and a stack of old jiffy pop popcorn. 

“Wait, I didn't think they made these anymore,” you reach out for the thin metal handle attached to the panshapped popcorn container. Shaking it you hear the rattle of the kernels, “when i was younger i thought it was just something people had in movies,” 

“My sisters and i love the stuff, it's also easy to pop outside over the fire,” 

“So all you leave is popcorn and wine when you're not staying here?” you tap the crate of wine with your foot, his grin boyish and shy. 

“It's a good thing for us now i guess,” 

It's what leads you to sharing the bottle, passing it by the neck as he gives you a tour of the house. His lips right at the spout, nerves loosening up with each sip he takes, creaking steps leading up the second floor. “And here is my room,” 

It’s right at the end of the hall, bed neatly made with a single stuffed penguin sitting against the pillows. “You left him here all alone?” You ask, picking up the plushie, Kai's standing in front of the closet, the slatted doors making up most of the wall behind him facing the bed. 

He shrugs placing the half full wine bottle down on his dresser, “someone needed to protect my prize possession,” he falls right onto the mattress, head thrown back, hair spilling against the pillows, “i always sleep so good in this bed,” cheeks flushed from the wine, half lidded eyes watching you from under his lashes. It's an invitation you don't pass up. 

You climb in after him, feeling relaxed from drinking even if it was only a little bit, you can tell it's helped him too, his lazy smile so blissful. “I'm sure this bed is good for other things too,” you don't even care about being bold, not alone with him under you as you dip your head, nose brushing his. 

The first kiss is so soft, a brush of lips together lasting no longer than a second. Kai whines in the back of his throat, an ache for more hidden in the desperate sound. It's addicting to have someone seem so needy for your attention, his legs instinctively tangling with yours, hand at the back of your neck pulling you back down for another kiss.

The two of you fumbling to feel at each other, your hand sliding up under his shirt to touch his warm skin, his stomach flexing at the brush of your cold fingertips. His hand at your waist pulling you closer to him, needing you as close as he can get you. The kiss is sloppy in seconds, his tongue sliding against yours, noses bumping as you breath in each other.  You can feel that he's semi-hard, pressed against your thigh between his legs. 

He's a mess, whimpering when you pull away to take off your sweater, leaving you braless in a tank top. greedy hands back on you, pulling you back down on top of him, he’s grinding onto you desperately, fully hard from only kissing. 

every little noise he makes is caught in your mouth, his fingers fumbling for the button on your jeans. you have to pull away after his failed attempt, giggling as you brush his hair back, “it’s okay to take it a little bit slow huening we have all night,” you remind him, “I don’t want you cumming in your jeans when it could be in or on me,” he's looking up at you with total devotion, with an expression that lets you know he'd let you do anything if you asked. 

“Please?” and it doesn't even matter what he's begging for, you would let him do just about anything in return for looking at you like that. 

You're quick to rid yourself of your pants, falling back to the bed and letting him roll on top of you. Hands in his hair as he presses into you, one hand holding himself up while the other snakes down between you two. The soft gasp you let out eggs him on, drawing soft circles over your clothed clit like he knows exactly what to do. You twist your fingers into his hair, his lips tracing down your neck, hips back to grinding into your thigh. At first you don't notice the smell of popcorn. It's faint upstairs, wafting in through the vents, buttery and warm as kai slips his fingers into you. Your hips rolling on his hand, meeting every thrust, heel of his palm pressed to your clit. 

It isn't until the popcorn starts to burn that you say something, the tang in the air subtle as kai sucks hickeys on your sensitive skin. “Is something on fire?” 

Kai pulls away from the crook of your neck, “what the fuck?” breathing deeply to catch the scent. It's clear in the air now, hanging around like a question. “Stay here,” 

it's so unceremonious when he pulls his hand from your panties, fingers dropping onto his tongue to clear them, “i'll be right back, okay?” 

“O-okay,” you're confused more than anything, knees pulling in feeling overly exposed all of a sudden. It's silent in the house, the soundtrack of your kissing dimmed to nothing, before it's replaced with the creaking of his dissipating steps down the stairs. 

You feel a little foolish sitting in his bed, the crumpled sheets and discarded plushie a reminder that this is not normal for a hook up at all. Letting out a long breath you push out of the bed, all relaxation felt before now gone as you reach for the wine bottle on the dresser. You take a heavy swig from the bottle, needing your courage back. It felt silly to worry over burnt popcorn. 

Your stomach turns, sickening realization settling in. the two of you had only picked up the wine, neither of you even put the jiffy pop close to the stove's burners. You're quick to look for your phone, checking in the pile of your clothes on the floor, and finding nothing. Your bag was by the door downstairs, right next to the shoes, if your phone wasnt up here it was bound to be in your bag. 

You didn't say anything as you made it to the top of the stairs, not until the phone rang. Not the familiar song that came through your speakers but the deft echo of a warning siren. The kind of ringtone that was played in a movie when someone was receiving bad news, and it didn't stop, traveling up the stairs, playing once, twice, until nothing but silence. 

“Huening?” your voice wasn't as strong as you wished, faulting at the end as you took your first step down the stairs. 

No response. 

The last step creaks under your weight, the sound triggering the phone, that chilling ringtone back in the air. All the lights are on, nothing outside the windows visible as you watch your reflection walk past. You look right at the front door as you walk past, all of your things still in place, even Kai's shoes are still right where he left them. 

In the kitchen you find the ringing phone, the little screen bright green as it shows the incoming call. The skins faucet turned on, the pelting water beating down on the thin aluminum foil of the jiffy pop, hastily tossed into the basin. Thin rivulets of smoke still curling from the singed popcorn. The stove's gas burner still lit with a blue flame. 

The ringing continues as you turn everything off, feeling suddenly too cold and alone standing under the golden lights. It doesn't help that you're only dressed in your panties and tanktop, bare feet padding across the tile to pick you the phone. 

Unknown caller. Read the directory, not even the number shown underneath. You hit answer before you could think better of it. 

“Hello?” your pulse was in your ears, washing down your neck, but you're stunned to recognize the voice over the phone. 

“What's your favorite scary movie?” 

You can't help but laugh, the sound bubbling up before you respond, “kai, are you using the ghostface voice on me right now? You already had your hand down my pants no need for the theatrics,” 

You can't even pick up a trace of his real voice over the filter, the soft chuckle on the other line trickling down your spine. “You didn't answer my question, you have to have a favorite, what comes to mind?”

“So we’re quoting the movie now?” you ask, looking around the kitchen, leaning back against the countertop. “Should i go all in and start asking to make it to the sequel?” 

He chuckles, so soft and sensual, unlike his usual boisterous laugh. “Maybe…but a little birdie told me that you're not a virgin and you know what happens to those who sleep around right?” 

“Enlighten me,” you cross your arms smiling at your reflection in the window. It's a bit silly to be here roleplaying in the first place but it's not like you're against it. What gets you is that it's coming from kai of all people. So soft and sweet, giggling and shyly walking you home. But you truly never know what a persons into until you're faced first with it. 

“They don't last very long,” so smug as he says it. 

“They don't?” 

“Nope, and you have a list of things that you've already done wrong. I don't know if you truly deserve to make it to the sequel,” 

“Oh? What did I do wrong?” you smile, checking out your nails, thumb running along the bed of your cuticles as you listen. 

“Humm, let me see. First you're all alone in that big old house, did anyone ever tell you never to go into the dark and scary woods all alone?” 

“I'm not alone, i have you,” 

He ignores the last half of your statement, “Aren't you? hum, funny how i don't see the boytoy around anymore,” 

“I can't believe you planned all of this, who knew you would be so freaky? I can't say that it doesn't turn me on though,” 

“Oh? How cute that you still think I'm your little boyfriend. I mean didn't you see the signs? The door was unlocked in the back, popcorn on the stove when you didn't put it there, and now a missing boy toy. It's a shame you seem to have forgotten everything you've learned in class, or maybe it was the wine,” 

“A few sips won't make me stupid, seriously huening come out, i want to get back into your bed,” you push off the counter, walking back toward the living room until you're stopped dead in your tracks. The sound isn't coming from the phone but just up ahead around the corner.

Your laugh echoes in the empty house, followed by your own words, “it’s okay to take it a little bit slow huening, we have all night, I don’t want you cumming in your jeans when it could be in or on me,” 

You follow each line into the living room, the tv on and showing a video of only minutes ago. 

“Please?” kais weavering voice seems so loud here instead of between you two. 

You can see yourself push down your pants, watch the way the two of you fall right back into each other. Only now you're seeing it from the perspective of the closet, it's the only place you could think of that he would have placed the camera. The slats of the wood even in frame. It's like someone dropped a bucket of ice water on top of you. Standing in front of the tv as if you're Carrie from the prom and someones set up a cruel joke. 

“Cute huh?” the voice over the phone asks, that little laugh following right after, “i sure think it is. Look at the way your body reacts to his fingers, you’ll be that pretty for me won't you?” 

You feel the hair on the back of your neck rise, the house too big for this kind of game. Even just standing there now alone it felt like you were a fish in a bowl, stuck to be watched from all sides. And not from the video but from the figure standing right on the outside of the window. 

He was dressed in all black, nothing like what kai had been wearing before. And covering his face the dripping white mask of ghostface. You only catch a glimpse because the lights are on but it's enough to remind you that maybe this isn't a joke. “Are you outside?” 

“I don't know? Am i?” but as he says it you see down the hallway a dark figure step out of a doorway. 

Everything in you freezes, your heart rate plummeting, a cold sweat breaking out across your skin. You hadn't even noticed your fingers had been trembling before, not until your deathgrip on the phone starts to hurt. “Don't hang up on me,” he warns over the line, but the person down the hall doesnt even have a phone in sight, his slow prowl reminding you to move. 

You take off back towards the kitchen, the back door playing in your head as the best possible exit but as soon as you're in front of it, tugging on a door knob needs to be unlocked you see the haze reflection of two more figures waiting right against the glass. You can hear the laugh of the person on the phone even if it's not to your ear as you rush to pull open any drawer that might have something in it to protect you. But every pull leads you to find nothing at all, “what the fuck!” 

The door shakes as they try to pull it open, the glass rattling as you lift the phone back to your ear, “okay huening, that's enough, i get it, ha ha, funny, but seriously-” 

“Were you looking for a knife?” he cuts you off, voice so calm when you're falling apart. 

“What?” you're exasperated, huffing the question like it's a slap in the face. 

“I know where one is, if you want it,” 

It's then that the masked man from the hall comes into the kitchen, the steel knife in his hands glinting in the light. “You have to be fucking kidding me right now,” youre desprate to find an explanation for this. The island is between the two of you, his head tilting to the side, the open mouth of the mask mocking you as he takes slow steps around the marble. You're matching his every move, both of you circling the kitchen like two fighters waiting for the ding of a bell. 

The door rattles again, the sound making you yelp, hand pressed to your racing heart. It's the distraction you need to bolt right through the kitchens arch way and run to the front door. 

You're moving so fast you have little time to slow down, partially slamming into the door, fingers fast to twist the locks. 

As soon as it's opened you're standing face to face with another ghostface mask, his black clad outfit sticking to his figure as he towers over you, phone hovering right over the mask's gaping mouth. “Hum not out the front door i guess,” 

You try to slam the door shut but his boot clad foot moves fast catching it right before it could close completely. Spinning you run towards the stairs, the sound of their following footsteps close behind. The door to the bedroom is still wide open as you barrel through turning around and throwing the door closed and twisting the lock. 

But it's only a moment of relief when you feel a hand clasp around your mouth. Your scream is muffled from their fingers, your eyes closing as if that would fix the situation, the phone in your hand falling to the floor, “Shhh it's okay,” Kai whispers, a strong arm wrapping around your middle pulling you closer to him. 

The weight is lifted off your shoulders hearing his voice, hands wrapping around the one covering your mouth to tug it away. “What is going on?” you ask, pulling yourself away from him. your back is to the door and he steps closer backing you right up against it. 

“Didn't you say you found it kinda hot, the whole fear thing?” he asks, leaning close enough to kiss, “i wanted to make it extra special for you, and you don't mind if we all share you, right?” his knuckle lifts your chin up so you’re eye to eye, nose to nose, his normal shy smile turned devilish. “All you have to do is say no,” 

It was crazy to say yes. your heart still pounding, breathing only just starting to regulate, and yet you want him, you want them. “I-I don’t- I don’t want to say no,” 

“Then don’t,” he pushed his whole body against yours, engulfing you in his warmth, taking you for another kiss like you hadn’t left the room at all. You don't even notice him unlocking the door, not until the knob is shaking against your back. 

Kai pulls you towards the bed, the closet doors behind him open showing the empty space with a lone camera on a tripod. The red light looking back at you like a warning, you looked right down the barrel of the lens wondering if you would ever see this again, and praying that you did. Kai fit his fingers over you eyes, “don't look at it, don’t think about its there,” 

You hear a chuckle, so similar to the one over the phone, only without the filter. Now so easily recognizable as yeonjun, you can picture the way his mouth looks as he does it, his canines on display as he smirks. You don't even have to see him to know, you've known all of them so long you're sure one touch and you could guess who was who. And with both of kais hands on your eyes the brush of someone's fingers on your cheek lets you know exactly who it is. Soobins hands are the softest of the bunch and your face tilts in his direction. “Soobin?”

he lets out a huff of a laugh, “you caught me. And you know it's kind of rude not to open the back door when we come knocking,” 

“You scared me,” it's a soft confession that they all chuckle at. 

“Did we?” beomgyu teases, so much closer than you expected, the ghost of his touch going up your arm, goosebumps popping up along the trail. 

Your senses are on overdrive, pulse loud enough to be heard if one listens close enough, every little thing heightened by your fading fear and covered eyes. You feel a hand slip down your stomach stopping right before your panty line, a single finger sliding under the waistline to pull it and let it snap back against your skin. You jolt from the contact, body flush with kai’s, his hard cock pressed to your back. 

You hear rustling from the closet, and kai lets you go, letting you see yeonjun taking the camera in hand. He's adjusting the viewfinder, the others standing in a circle around you, it should be intimidating, the masks off now, looking at you like you're something to eat. It's taehyun that steps forward first, thumb reaching out to drag across your bottom lip. You open your mouth letting him press the digit flat against your tongue. 

“You’ll be good for us, won't you?” he asks, and you close your mouth sucking his finger as you nod. He smirks, “i want first,” 

It's all he says before he's pushing you down on the bed. It's so quick the air is almost knocked right out of you, your hands scrambling to find purchase on the beds duvet cover. It's almost a shame how wet you already are, the way your panties are cut away, the cold knife in taehyuns free hand only just brushing your skin. The fabric tossed around from person to person. “I did most of the work,” kai adds as you bury your face into the sheets, “she wouldn't be this prepped if i didn't start early,” 

“And that's why you have to wait,” “You didn't even get her off,” they talk over each other.  

“You guys didn't give me time!” kai tries but they ignore him when you give a sharp whine. 

Taehyun shoves his fingers right into you, your body so willing to take him in. but you hear his belt being undone with one hand, and it's a shame you cant see the way his cock looks from this angle, because as he pressed the tip right at your entrance, slick fingers helping to lude up his veiny shaft, you can tell he's going to be the perfect stretch. 

Your moan as he sinks into your warm heat is echoed by the rest of them, a choir of the perfect voices turned husky and wanting. “Holy shit,” teahyun breathes his hand pressed right to your lower back, your feet dangling right off the edge of the bed, toes only just barely touching the ground. 

“Doesn't she feel amazing?” kai asks, “fuck i bet she fits like a fucking dream,” gyu adds as he walks over to the other side of the bed climbing in to lay against the headboard. His zipper was already undone, pants low on his hips as he watched you get pounded into. 

Because tae was not holding back anymore, it felt like he had been waiting all night for this exact moment, to chase his high without question. And your pussy was so welcoming, sucking him in, practically begging for his cum. 

Yeonjun walked around the bed, zeroing the camera in on you as your legs bend, heel of your feet pushing on taes thighs. Taehyun wraps his hands in your hair, tugging your head back, extending your throat to the camera, arching your back just right, “i want to be able to watch back how you looked while i fucked you okay?” 

“Oh, look at that, huening marked up our toy already,” soobin reaches out a finger, tracing over the hickey kai had left on your skin, your eyes were wide and begging as you watched him, mouth caught open in a moan as taes thrusts turned sloppy. “Fuck, look at that mouth,” 

yeonjun bent down to catch the image. “I think someone needs to fill it,” 

Soobin didn't need to be told twice. He was tugging his cock out of his jeans, leaking precum already dotting the tip as he gave it long languid strokes. Your mouth was already watering at the sight, knowing taking him down your throat would be a task but one you wouldn't back away from. 

But taehyun was already cumming, orgasm cresting as he slammed his hips into your ass, cock twitching as he let out a deep rumbling moan. He let go of your hair, head falling forward into the duvet as he stilled inside you pressing as close as he could get, the tip of his cock hitting you just right as he spilled inside you. 

“I want next!” gyu calls out, raising his hand like he knows the answer to a question. 

“No-” soobin starts but beomgyu is already moving from his stop on the bed as taehyun pulls out, the gush of warmth leaving your cunt dripping down your thighs. Yeonjun is quick to catch the sight on film. 

“Look at that,” it sounds so endearing coming from him, a true sight to behold as you whine from the feeling of being empty. You feel like a ragdoll as soobin pulls on you, tugging you further up the bed so that you're on your hands and knees in front of him. 

“Open,” his tip is already prodding at your lips. You feel the bed dip behind you, gyu finding his place as he drags his fingers through the leaking cum traveling down your legs, he does his best to shove it right back into you, fingers dragging over your clit, circling it as soobin shoves his cock right into your mouth. 

You give a muffled yelp, tongue flattening to make it easier for him to slide in and out of. His head is rolling back, hair spilling around his ears as he moans. He twists his fingers in your hair, both hands wrapping around your head to bob you up and down on his dick like his own personal toy. You're nails dig into the sheets, the sloppy sounds of him fucking your throat taking up the most sound. 

Beomgyu keeps one hand on your clit and the other guides his cock into you, he's quick to snap his hips forward sending you forward on soobin, until you're choking for air. Moans sending vibrations up along soobins shaft. His eyes tighten, needing to pull away before he cums too quickly, face flushed red as rivulets of your saliva still connect you to him. 

The constant pressure put on your clit from beomgyus fingers has your stomach tightening in knots. Now that you're not taking soobin in beomgyu picks up his pace, the skin on skin slapping sounds melding with your whines. “I want you to cum for me, i want to be the first one to make you cum, please,” he sounds so desperate, not matching the way he drills into you, tip hitting your cervix in a mix of painful pleasure. He can feel your fluttering walls, every particularly hard thrust making your cunt react just right. And when you cum hes a blubbering mess, “fuck fuck fuck-” not expecting to cum so fast, but youre drawing it out of him, with each little sound you make. He's almost embarrassed by how long he cums for, head falling forward to rest on your shoulder blade, his dick pulsing inside you, curses turning to nonsense, the drawn out, “fuuu- ahh, ah,”  

“Look at how pretty she looks when she cums,” yeonjun smiles, bringing the camera close to catch the way you are trying to blink the spots from your vision, “soobin next? Or maybe kai? Both of them seem to have waited so long for you,” 

Kai leans back against the dresser, arms crossed as he watches you, expressionless as he follows the shape of your body. Only one of your tank tops straps are on, your breasts already spilling out from the thin fabric, soobins eyes caught on your peaked nipples as he strokes himself. But you look back over to huening, the way he's standing there like he's unaffected at all. But you know it's not true, not when he's straining in his pants, the bulge itself drives you insane. “Hyuka?” 

The shyness in your voice is what does it for him, beomgyu only just pulling out of you with a hiss. More cum dribbling out as he pushes his hair back looking at his handiwork. Yeonjun is right next to him too, getting the perfect shot. 

Taehyun languidly lounges back against the headboard, cock still hard as it rests against his stomach, hand wrapped around the base as he watches you. It distracts you enough not to see kai moving replacing gyus spot. 

Kai wraps his hand in your hair but unlike taehyun he forcefully pushes your head down into the mattress. The whole mit of his hand cups your skull, your whimper making him chuckle. His free hands traced up your side, slipping under your tank top as he feels along your skin. “You know I was thinking about this the whole walk back after our study night?” his hand dips down fingers sliding along your wetness, “i kept thinking about how perfect it would be to absolutely ruin you,” 

You're already sensitive from finishing already and kai can tell as your thighs tremble but it wont stop him from pinching your clit. Your hips push back against him, yelping as he goes on to rub circles over the bundle of nerves. “Seeing it happen- watching you get used as a little cum dump is so much better than I ever imagined,” he works your clit, building up his speed until your back is arching, nails biting into your palm as you feel your orgasm building too quickly. You're trying to rock back into his hand but the way he has you bent helps very little. Your cries heighten until he pulls it all away. 

“No huening please!” 

“Aww how cute, she's begging,” beomgyu laughs and you're whimpering in response. 

“Kai…please!” 

“You're already doing so well because i want you begging to be filled with my cum, crying from how badly you want it,” his hand goes back to your cunt, pressing into your clit rubbing at a pace that has you seeing stars, your hands scratch out for looking for anything to hold onto. Yeonjun takes your hand in his keeping the camera facing your reaction as your eyes roll back. Its in the middle of your climax that kai pushes his cock into you, finding a punishing rhythm as he fucks you into the matterss. 

“Beg for it,” he growls, hand in your hair twisting in the strands. You can feel him all the way to your throat, stretched out so good, he presses right into your gspot like he was made for you. 

“P-please- hyuka i need it- i-” you cant even get the words out anymore, the squeaking of the bed building as he increases his speed. You can hear the wet sounds of the other boys jerking off, “i want your c-cum, i need it,” 

“Louder,” yeonjun mutters in front of you, your death grip on his hand not loosening anytime soon. 

“I want it! I need your cum, please!” But Huenings is so lost chasing his own high that he drops his hand from your clit to grab your hip, his bruising hold and brutal thrusts making you cry out. 

Beomgyu reaches down under you, fingers finding just the right rhythm to send you over the edge at the same time kai cums. His faltering thrusts and throaty moans makes you feel weak. Your cunt is strangling his cock, his release pushed as deep as he could get it into you. When he pulls out you collapse onto the bed, completely used up. 

It feels never ending body too tired already when you feel soobin climb into the bed. He lays right behind your exhausted form, both of you on your sides facing yeonjun, “look who's next, do you think you could get another one out of her? I hear you're only a freak in theory and not practice,” 

But soobin doesn't take the bait, one hand sliding under you and wrapping around your chest, hand coming up to cup your breast, fingers twisting your hard nipple, and the other lifting your leg to get better access to your leaking cunt. Your thighs are so sticky soobins fingers slip on his hold, having to tighten his grip to make sure he can keep you open. He's been ready since the start, his cock aching as it prods your now puffy swollen cunt, so used you're sure you would be sore for days. 

When he sinks in your whimpers are so soft they are hardly heard. Yeonjun is kneeling on the floor, arm holding the camera resting on the bed. He captures the way soobins dick slides in with ease, no resistance now with how much slick is coming out of you. Every drag of soobins cock comes away stained in white. A ring of the combined cum circling the base, balls sticking to your skin with every thrust. 

His breathy moans are lost against your neck, pitiful little sounds before he's muttering, “im sorry, oh god- im-” 

“Don't you dare cum yet,” yeonjun warns soobin, who pauses his thrusts trying to listen but can't find it in him to restrain. Yeonjuns fingers pinch at your clit, your whole body reacting to the feeling, jolting you back to life as you cum. soobin unable to handle the pressure and is a complete mess, whimpering as he pulls you closer, hugging you as if he could merge bodies. 

It took him a while to finally pull out, a much needed break for only a few breaths before yeonjun passes the camera to taehyun to keep the filming going. You can feel the weakness all the way down to your bones, sure if you stand you could collapse to the floor, legs too weak to hold you up. But yeonjun is looking at you like you're being served on a silver platter, all done up with all the best fixings. 

“Best for last huh?” he grins climbing over you brushing under your eye to catch a single tear that's fallen from your overstimulation. “Its so fun to see you so dumb on cock, so unlike how we usually see you,” 

You hum in response as he pushes your legs open, hands at the back of your knees pushing them to your chest. When he puts them over his shoulders you whimper, reaching out to wrap your arms around his neck as he sinks into your wet heat. Bent in half you feel your toes curling, sure that if you came one more time you would be better off sleeping for the next year. “I think this is good practice, don't you?” he asks like you'll respond to him with anything other than a string of muffled whimpers. Your body is coated in a thin layer of sweat, sticking to his skin as he takes a slow pace. It's like he's apologizing, lips peppering across your cheek, down your neck. “We’ll keep you so happy, stuffed full like you deserve. Would you like that?” 

You're nodding, eyes closing as he uses you. You don't even notice the way your body is reacting, that slow rise of your next orgasm building up, “i-” you can’t think about cumming again already feeling so dumbed out. 

“Hum? Are you going to cum, pretty?” he picks up his pace, sinking his hips and hitting you right against your g spot. Your head rolls back as it washes over you, body tightening until you feel like you’ve combusted into little particles. “Oh look at that, so perfect for me, your pussy feels so good when it's squeezing me like this,” it's all he says before he’s trembling, a guttural moan taking over as he cums, you swear you can feel its warmth spreading throughout you. And when he pulls out he takes the camera back from taehyun focusing it in on the sight of all the combined release staining your folds. 

“Look at how she pushes it out,” beomgyu says, mesmerized by the way you look leaking so much cum. But it's Kai who leans down, fingers collecting anything he can before shoving all the cream right back into you. “Its almost like she wants us to fuck it right back in,” 

🏷taglist: @kissmekissykissme @bts-txt-ateez @apeachty @stwq2349 @isa942572 @tomorrowxforever r @beestvng @soobingf-blog @lovinjjong @lola-horore-553 @cypher-03 @midnight-mochii i @hueningwhy @choibeomning @soobinbunnie5 @yunjinswifee @cupidtaehyun @bamgeutsz @prince-jjae @nessaassen02 @iluvhyukaa @mrsjohnnysuh @wand3rlustm3

thank you so much to @beomiracles @prince-jjae and @thetxtdevil for beta/proofreading the first part of this fic!

[eupheme]

idk if you’re taking any requests and if you aren’t feel free to ignore this lol

but if you are would you write reader smothering Logan in kisses after she put on red lipstick leaving him covered in red kiss marks (maybe he has somewhere to be so he wipes them off but doesn’t realize he missed one till he gets called out on it)

ohh anon I love this!! 👀💖 I can’t imagine him being like “alright, already” but secretly like 🥰 on the inside (and ahh the thought of ‘reluctantly’ letting you leave a little kiss mark on him when you’re all going out because he heals too fast to leave a hickey!)

— your kiss is on my list

logan howlett x f!reader | 400 words

He’s good at pretending.

You catch him coming back from work just as you’re heading out. Tucked away in the stairway as you giggle, finding a hidden corner as you press your mouth against his.

No more than a stolen moment. Hands fisted in your jacket as you pepper kisses against his chin, the scruff of his facial hair. The side of his neck, just below the ear.

“Careful, sweetheart,” He coaxes, “You look gorgeous, don’t wanna mess up that lipstick of yours.”

Though he wants nothing more than to pull you closer. To whisk you away back upstairs - but he knows you’ve been talking about your night out with the girls all week.

And maybe he’s not ready to share you yet.

When you pull back you’re smiling, “Mm, I wouldn’t mind that. You coming over tonight?”

His hand cups your jaw, thumb rubbing under your lip to fix the slight smear, “Was already planning on it.”

It’s another minute before you’re through kissing him goodbye. His fingers lingering on his lips, as you disappear down the stairs.

If it was later, he wouldn’t mind getting a little marked up. Something that would stay against his skin, lingering until morning. Scattered across his chest, his stomach. A pretty red ring around his-

A sharp breath, as he clears his head. If he doesn’t get it together he’ll be tempted to go after you, and end your night a little early.

His hand scrubs across his mouth, wiping away the trace of you. The heel of his palm scraping across chin and jaw as he opens the apartment door.

Wade’s eyes flick his way as he enters, before he’s grinning in a way that makes his scowl deepen. Legs swinging as he jumps off the couch - coming over to brace himself on the counter, while Logan ducks down to peer in the fridge.

“Oh my god, you little liar. I knew you were hiding something from me, you’ve been way too chipper lately.” His roommate chirps, “When you bringing her over?”

“Who?” Logan barks defensively, tugging a beer free.

“Oh, I dunno,” Wade drawls - reaching out to poke a spot on his neck, “Whoever gave you that little masterpiece right there.”

Logan smacks his hand away with a growl. Fingers rubbing at his skin, seeing how they come back red. He sighs.

Fuck.

thank you again, anon! 💖 hope you liked this!

[rqnarok]

worst!logan losing his last bit of self-control. 

smut, mdni! fem!reader. worst!wolverine. unprotected p in v. size kink. 

logan howlett is a decent neighbor, you think. sometimes he might smell like alcohol when you meet him, but still, he’s moderate, respectful, and minds his own business. always got something yet nothing going on. the only thing is, he’s hot. hot and older. way older than you with those wrinkles and greying stubble on his face.

wade told you he doesn’t have a girlfriend nor has he ever once brought back a girl to their shared space, let alone even mentioned one. you thought that this little crush on him would go away like any other—it does not. so then you begin dropping hints that you find him attractive, by wearing your tightest piece of clothing, brushing your ass against him in the laundry room, and even leaving one of your pink cottoned panties to mix in with his clothes. 

the same logan howlett never takes the bait. 

you begin to suspect that perhaps he simply doesn't think you're attractive, or worse, that he thinks you're a creep. doesn’t take long for you to stuff your girl crush into your chest cavity.

it was when you were cradling your laundry basket back to your room when you caught a glimpse of logan trying to open the locks to his apartment, back from his morning run. 

you pad closer to ask him if he needs any clothes washed. logan’s back is still turned from you while he searches for the right lock. 

“need any clothes washed, logan? i’m starting a load up for the day.” you question all while eyeing the movement of back muscle underneath his sweat-soaked shirt.

he finally turns to you and starts to respond, “uh- don’t think so—” before he stops his sentence midway when he sees what you’re wearing. 

“‘s that mine?” his voice sounds hoarse in your ear. 

oh, yeah. it’s his customized t-shirt that is long enough to cover your shorts. the t-shirt wade and blind al got him for his birthday as a half-fuckin’ joke. the one that has his name in bold at the back of it. you notice he’s staring lowly at the fabric—waiting for your answer.

you look downwards, “o-oh, yeah. sorry. i was doing laundry and found this in the hamper. my clothes are already in the wash. hope that’s… okay?” 

you sound docile and small as though a deer caught in the headlights. christ. what were you thinking, wearing your neighbor’s shirt without his permission. the same neighbor that may think you’re a weirdo. you try to hide your humiliation by shifting—playing with the hem of his t-shirt.

within three big steps, he’s on you. the sound he makes is somewhere between a growl and a snarl, almost animal-like.  how or when you both ended up on the floor of his living room is unknown to you. you're on your knees, rubbing your cheek against the carpet as his gaze burns between your legs. only left in his shirt. your shorts and panties are scattered all over the place. when you move your hips backwards, you're silently pleading with him to do something—anything.

he gives the flesh of your bottom a heavy slap that has your hole clenching around nothing, “be good now, doll.” is all you hear before the sting leaves a burning red mark. he calms you down by placing his palm over the back of your his shirt.

you hear a noise behind you before you feel the head of his tip onto your folds—making you release a high-pitched whine into the air. logan, too, groans at the contact, kneading the fat of your hips before he presses forward painfully slow. you whimper into your own palm, another hand reaching back to touch him, feeling warm all over. your pussy pulses trying to fit his large girth inside your heat.

“i know, bunny. ‘m almost there. thaaaa’s it.” you’re crying with relief when you feel logan’s balls meet your skin—a sign that he’s all the way in.

logan lets out an animalistic sound seeing you speared open on his cock, his name across your back, and you babbling stuff like “so b-big, logan…” 

he pulls back just to sink in again, slowly. logan sets a pace that has you trying to buck your hips back to meet his hips. he lays a large palm in the middle of your back, just under the word ‘logan’, keeping you pinned down on the carpet.  giving you no choice but to take what he gives you.

“f-fuck. such a pretty fuckin girl. gonna give ya’ what you deserve, yeah?” it manages to get hotter when he bends his right leg to slide in deeper, reaching your sweet spot. “rite’ there, logan…!” you slur mindlessly. 

he only chuckles at the act before taking both of your smaller wrists into one of his hands—pressing them tightly at your back—forcing you into an arch.

“needed this real bad, huh, sweet’art? don’t ya' worry. always gonna be here from now on. no need to fucking wear those tiny tops t’get my attention again.” 

“mhm!” you reply without a second thought. too oblivious to the fact that you’ve been drooling all over the carpet and to the fact that you’ve been caught. logan gives a deep relief sigh at how compliant you’ve become just from his thick cock.

your high comes hard and fast leaving you sobbing out phrases of please and logan. logan is not far behind—burying himself deeper as he can—and comes inside with a profound ‘oh fuck.’

he trails kisses on your face until he reaches your lips. logan pulls himself out with an obscene sound and watches his cum stream down your thighs. leaving small traces on the floor that he knows he’ll have to clean later before his roommate yells in his ear. 

logan pats your back affectionately and pulls you until you’re lying soundly on his chest, “don’t think y’re gonna do any laundry today, dolly.”

[niningtori]

an iron man | oneshot

pairing: choi beomgyu x you

summary: beomgyu has only ever known how to live function as a rental sexbot. he fucks whoever and whatever comes his way with a forced smile plastered on his face. that is, until you, a self-proclaimed trainwreck, come along.

genre: android!au, sexbot!au, angst, romance, fluff (more than i ever thought i could ever write i fear...), skippable smut at the very end (will be marked)

warnings: very brief and vague mentions of beomgyu being forced to engage in sexual acts he does not want with previous clients, skippable smut at the very end (will be marked)

smut warnings: unprotected sex, creampie, cockwarming, praise, dacryphilia, sub!gyu

word count: 14.7k (trust i will not be writing this much again if this flops BWNWJSJEJDK)

notes: terrified to post this one because this is probably my favorite thing i've ever written and if it gets a bad reaction i might die :,) also very unsure if this is the best time to post it since it's during kinktober so i'm not sure if the demand is there but i love this work so so much i pray you all like it. if you don't read anything else from me, i hope that you read this bc i rlly care ab it :,) please don't be mean i beg

beomgyu doesn’t know how long he’s been living like this. living is an odd term, too, and it’s not just because “life” is ill-defined for an android, but because to call what he experiences a life feels like a bastardization of the term. his power is turned on at some point, usually late at night, he fucks or gets fucked by somebody he probably doesn’t know, then he does the same shit all over again. so yes, he may be “alive”, but he wouldn't dare to call what he experiences living. living is too precious of a term to be used so cheaply on a sex android who’s made available for rent for the highest bidder of the night.

he’s seen how people live through his scattered vignettes of human life. he only gets them when he’s powered on, but he soaks them up with pleasure because they’re the only thing he’s ever known. some people do it wildly, living unattached to everyone and everything. their lives are not completely dissimilar to his, in a way, except they have a choice in the matter. they have time to find themselves, what their likes and dislikes are, and they get to connect with people in a way he will never have the power to. others, though, live the kind of life he really wants. they live by loving and being loved, knowing and being known. he wonders what it’d be like to know somebody outside of whatever secret deviant sexual pleasures they have. he wonders what it’s like to be known, too, but he guesses you would need to have something for someone to care enough to know about in the first place. he has no such thing.

it’s a night like any other when he’s powered on by a total stranger. he briefly takes in his surroundings and notices that it’s a really nice place, but you wouldn’t be the first rich person to rent him — not by a longshot. next, he takes you in. now, there’s no reason for you to dress up, really. you have no need to tempt him, as he will be able to feign attraction no matter what you look like, but he still finds it odd that you seem to have forgone any effort to appeal to him, if only because most people’s fantasies require them to look and feel sexy; but you don’t look sexy at all. you look like you’ve just gotten home from a long day at work, and honestly? you kind of smell like it, too.

“do you think you could do the dishes for me? i’m exhausted,” you ask with a perfectly-timed yawn. what… ?

he short-circuits for a moment as he tries to think of an appropriate response. he’s never had anyone try to get him to do chores for them, but maybe this is some sort of weird roleplay? maybe you want him to act as a house husband for you before doing the deed, which isn’t necessarily a problem since he’s well-versed in acting, but there’s just one issue.

“i don’t know how,” he tells you honestly.

“you don’t know how to do dishes?” you ask curiously, 

“it’s not in my programming,” he replies. if you didn’t know any better, you’d say he’s embarrassed because of the way he hesitates and looks away from you when he says it. he can’t possibly feel that, though, so it must just be your imagination.

“oh… that’s alright. okay, do you know how to clean a room? mine’s kind of dirty,” you try. 

“n-no,” he says, and he wishes the earth would just swallow him whole. he’s never failed at living up to expectations, and never so badly, at that. just what kind of fetish is this? 

“that’s okay,” you sigh, and he may not fully understand it, but he can sense your disappointment. “well, what can you do?” and the question is not asked maliciously, but with what seems to be genuine wonder. ah. he knows how to answer this one. slowly, he walks up to you and loosens your hair. you look up at him in shock, but he just cups your face, swiping his thumb across your lower lip. 

“i can do whatever you want me to, baby,” he whispers alluringly. “just tell me how you like it.” you’re so stunned at his switch in demeanor that you forget how to speak for a moment, but you quickly recollect yourself and pry his hands off of you.

“i don’t want you to do anything,” you insist. “i’m just tired. if you can’t help me clean, that’s alright. you can watch something if you’re bored. i think that’s it. well, goodnight.” beomgyu is malfunctioning at the moment. he thinks the gears in his head might be sparking while he tries to understand this new development. you don’t give him time to process it, though. you just slam your bedroom door shut behind you. he thinks he hears you lock it, too.

genuinely at a loss at the thought that he has nothing and no one to do, he sits himself on your couch. he tries not to make himself too at home at first, just barely making a dent on it and scooting to the very edge of the cushion as to not appear to be too relaxed. what if this is some sort of test? what if you’re actually going to come out soon so you two can fuck? until then, what should he do next? thoughts like this plague him until he accepts the fact that you are actually sleeping. your obnoxiously loud snoring is a dead giveaway, and he finally, finally feels brave enough to fiddle with your remote control. 

he scrolls for something to watch. movies and shows have been on as background noise during sex before, so he’s somewhat familiar with them, but he’s never gotten the opportunity to pick for himself or actually pay attention to what's happening on screen. he settles on a romantic movie about a robot who joins human society. the robot falls in love with a human girl, but in the end, the robot has to leave the girl because the town won’t accept him, even after using him. she marries a human man and has children, and eventually grandchildren, too. she still loves the robot even though he’s gone, which he thinks is supposed to make him feel sorry for her, but all he can feel is pity for the robot, who spends the rest of his life alone. 

it’s enough to make him cry, which he shouldn’t be able to do in a non-sexual setting, but he does it, anyway. it’s just so unfair to him. the girl is able to live a normal life while the robot is doomed to be alone forever. why? because he was born different? it’s not his fault that he was invented, but he spends the rest of his time on earth paying for the crime of existing in a world not built for him. the more beomgyu thinks about it, the more wronged he feels. he’s outright sobbing by the time you plop down on the couch beside him. he jumps up and straightens his posture while trying in vain to regain his composure.

“yeah, this movie makes me cry, too,” you quietly remark. he’s silent, not because he didn’t hear what you said, but because he genuinely doesn’t know how to act after being caught red handed.

“can i ask you something?” you ask in lieu of his lack of a response.

“yes,” he feebly answers.

“why are you crying?” you question with a tilt of your head, but something in him tells him that you already know.

“because the movie made me sad,” he admits after a pause.

“are androids supposed to feel things like that?” 

“... no,” he replies after a pause. 

“then why can you?” 

“i… i don't know. just please don’t say anything to my owners,” he pleads. he knows that if the company that owns him were to find out about this, he’d be scrapped in a heartbeat. or worse, they’d analyze him like a labrat to try to find the anomaly within him. his “life” as a sexbot will be over, and he’d really rather be a box of scraps than live as a case study in a lab somewhere. 

“it’s okay,” you tell him with a reassuring smile as you watch him trying not to spiral. “i won’t tell them. it’ll be our secret.” beomgyu has never had a secret to share with anyone before, so he feels an overwhelming amount of excitement at the idea that he will finally have one. his chest feels warm at the thought.

“thank you,” he says with a grateful smile.

“no problem,” you reply with a yawn. “i’m tired, so i’m heading back to bed. i just wanted to get some water. goodnight, for real this time.” 

“goodnight,” he murmurs softly. you return his words with a sleepy smile and go back into your room. he finds that he’s smiling even when you leave. 

he spends the night consuming as much media as he conceivably can before he has to leave. usually, he'd be powered off after he’s done being used, so he greedily savors every moment he can. who knows if he'll ever get this chance again. when you wake up, you're surprised to see that he's exactly where you left him, still watching the screen intently.

“good morning,” you say while stretching your arms. 

“good morning,” he replies. 

“are you ready to be returned?” you ask. 

“... yes,” he lies. 

“okay. i think somebody will be here to pick you up in an hour or so. you hungry?” 

“i don't really eat,” he bashfully answers. for some reason, he's embarrassed at the fact that you're treating him like a human while he's unable to fully act like one.

“oh. i guess that makes sense,” you nod. 

things are quiet until he’s picked up, but it’s not an awkward silence. you sit next to him on the couch as you wolf down some breakfast and let him watch whatever he pleases. when he eventually hears knocking at your door, he feels an incomprehensible sense of dread.

“i think that's them,” you remark, breaking the silence. 

“y-yeah,” he replies. 

“well, it was nice to meet you,” you say, reaching out your hand for him. he’s unsure what to do with it. not missing a beat, you gently grab his hand and shake it. he's stunned at the physical contact, and he's still reeling when you let the man from the rental company in. you have a brief conversation with him before he walks towards beomgyu.

“goodbye,” you tell the android with a smile and a little wave. 

“... good—” and the man switches him off.

-

the next time beomgyu is powered on, he’s in your house again. relief floods him when he realizes it. you don’t seem as exhausted as the last time he saw you. when that was, he has no idea, but if he had to guess, he’d say it was just last night because of the fact that he’s so popular he’s rented almost every day.

“hey,” you greet him with a smile. he’s still feeling relieved before he realizes that tonight might be the night where you ask him to have sex with you. maybe you were just tired last night and had no desire to fuck, but he can tell that you’re feeling more energetic tonight. 

“i didn’t catch your name,” you add. 

“... beomgyu. i’m part of the choi line, but i’m a custom model, so they gave me a name,” he tentatively replies.

“nice,” you nod, and you briefly introduce yourself before asking if he wants to watch a movie. 

“watch… a movie?” is this some sort of euphemism for fucking? it wouldn’t be the first time he’s heard of something like this. as mentioned before, some people like movies as background noise. 

“yeah, you can pick,” you say, casually plopping down on the couch and patting the cushion next to you. he hesitantly takes your cue, and he’s mentally preparing himself for what comes next before you take a blanket and cocoon yourself in it so tightly, it’d be impossible for him to touch you.

“what’s wrong?” you ask, and he jolts a bit when he realizes that he’s been staring in disbelief. “oh, are you cold? do you want a blanket, too?” 

“‘m fine,” he replies.

“are you sure? the clothes they make you wear look a little thin,” you observe with your nose wrinkled, and he feels impossibly small under your surveying eye. “here, i’ll get you some sweats. i think soobin left some the last time he was here.” 

“who’s soobin?” he asks a little too quickly. so quickly, in fact, he doesn’t even have time to process why he even asked.

“my friend. stay here, i’ll grab them for you.” 

when you return, you have a long pair of sweatpants in hand and a big t-shirt. 

“you can change in the bathroom. it’s down the hallway and to the left, okay?” he nods in response.

he strips his clothes off as best as he can, and it feels like he’s shedding a second skin. when he’s finished undressing, he pulls on the clothes you gave him and stares in the mirror. it’s in his programming to always be mindful of how he looks, but he feels especially self-conscious now that he’s wearing a normal outfit. he fixes up his hair and clears his throat before exiting your (messy) bathroom and making his way back into your living room. he finds you fiddling with your phone before you look up at him.

“took you long enough,” you tease, and he blushes, which stuns you. just how human is this guy?

“s-sorry, i —” 

“hey, i’m just kidding. you’re fine. you look pretty good in those clothes — soobin would be jealous,” you chuckle. his ears perk up at the mention of soobin again. is he your boyfriend? he must be. why else would he have clothes at your house? is that why you don't want to sleep with beomgyu? because you have someone already? if that's the case, why rent him at all? but he is not brave enough to ask these questions, so he settles for a soft “thank you” and returns to his spot on the couch.

you toss him the remote and he catches it with ease before unsurely flipping through your streaming services. he finds something that piques his interest and turns to you with an uncertain look before you nod encouragingly. he selects it and lets it play. he doesn’t mean to, but he finds himself sinking further and further into the cushions as it progresses. 

it’s a sweet movie — a romantic comedy about an amnesic woman whose memory is wiped clean every morning, but a man falls in love with her, anyway. she never remembers him, so he has to make her fall in love with him in a new way every day. he finds himself smiling throughout it, but a particularly funny scene has him actually laughing for the first time. it’s a squeaky sort of thing, and he has never laughed before, so he’s somewhat surprised as it leaves his throat. he looks to you in trepidation, but you just smile warmly and respond with a soft chuckle of your own. he finds that he looks to you every time a new development occurs, and you always answer encouragingly. 

the end of the film surprises him. it’s bittersweet in that she never does get her memory back, but the man makes a video recounting their entire love story for her to watch every time she wakes up. it ends with them living happily together in spite of everything, and it’s enough to make him sob. he turns to you and sees that you’re teary-eyed as well, but you seem to be enjoying his reaction so much that there’s still a grin on your face. after the film ends, you can tell that he has something on his mind.

“what’s wrong? didn’t you like it?” you gently ask.

“i did. i just don’t understand,” he replies timidly.

“don’t understand what?” 

“why he would do all of that for her, i guess,” he says. 

“because he loves her. when you love somebody, you’d do anything to be with them. you always find a way,” you tell him, and the sentiment seems to strike a chord within him.

“even if they’re that different?”

“of course.”

-

beomgyu spends the following nights with this same routine. he’s switched on, sees you standing in front of him with a smile, gets comfortable, and watches as much media as he possibly can while you two chatter away about every scene. he learns much more from it than he ever did from experience with his previous renters, and he finds himself becoming more and more emotional by the day. you never try to question him or press him to explain any of his feelings, and it just makes him feel even more comfortable with you. 

one day, he even feels comfortable enough to ask you a question. the question. 

“can i ask you something?” 

“of course! what is it?” you reply in earnest. beomgyu has never directly inquired about you.

“why do you rent me? i mean, i know we watch stuff together now, but why rent me in the first place?” and even when he feels exponentially more at ease with you than he ever has in any other context, he’s still nervous when he asks it. 

“oh, my friend did it as a joke, i guess,” you shrug. “he thought i needed to get laid or something, but i’m not into stuff like that, so i just thought i’d ask you to help me clean. obviously, that’s what i actually need,” you giggle. what he feels at your words can only be described as disappointment. “stuff like that”? so you’re not into sleeping with sexbots? is it because you find them disgusting? is it because you find him disgusting? he’s not sure what he expected, but this wasn’t it.

“oh. so why don’t you buy a cleaning bot?” he asks softly, and while you are usually pretty perceptive of his emotions, you don’t register the fact that he’s at a loss right now.

“i dunno. my parents were always against that sort of thing. they thought it was wrong, i guess, so i didn’t grow up with them like everyone else did. i didn’t really have an opinion on them until i met you,” you tell him while grinning and lightly nudging him with your elbow. he tries his best to smile because, in theory, your words are really sweet. you see him as more than just another android, so why does he feel like that’s not enough? 

the fragile connection you two have made seems even more fragile now. at least, it does to him. you only met each other because of a joke your friend just so happened to make, not because of fate or the divine intervention that he always sees in the movies. maybe in another world, your friend rented a different sexbot. maybe you’d even treat them the same way you treat him. the thought alone makes something ugly burn in his chest. 

still, you are oblivious to the internal war raging within beomgyu. 

“hey, i’ve got an idea,” you tell him, and he perks up a bit. “have you ever listened to music?” 

“not really,” he replies solemnly. people have played it in the background of their sexual escapades, but he hasn’t really gotten the chance to listen the same way humans do. you finally register his crestfallen appearance, but you chalk it up to him feeling like he’s missing out. 

“why don’t we listen to some? i can play a bunch of different genres so you can find what you like,” you suggest, and he agrees to it. truthfully, he doesn’t fully understand how music can be better than movies and shows, but he is curious to find out what makes it so special. 

and special, it is. he doesn’t like every song you play, he realizes, but that’s only natural given how different they are from each other. he finds himself being drawn to the more emotional and moody ones, but he can’t help but enjoy the way you quietly sing and nod along to the more upbeat tunes. 

as you continue to sit together, you begin to fiddle with your hair. you’re scoffing and loosening it for the umpteenth time before you’re about to give up, but beomgyu stops you.

“let me do it,” he says.

“do you know how?” 

“i think i can. i’ve been watching you,” he says simply.

“... okay.” 

you turn your back to him to give him access to your hair and he scoots closer to you. closer than you’ve ever been. his touch on your head is careful as he gently gathers your hair and begins to braid it. you’re not sure how much time passes because he’s actually quite slow, but it’s relaxing all the same. you find yourself softly humming to the tune of the song playing. the lyrics are a little dark, but you follow along in earnest, and beomgyu thinks he finally understands why people like music so much. for moments like this. he tries to soak up every detail he can, from the way the light hits your frame to the melody you hum, and he wishes this moment could last forever.

but you only have so much hair, so the moment does have to end, eventually. he ties up your hair and you pull out your phone camera to admire his handiwork. admittedly, it’s a lot better than anything you could’ve done. it seems that he’s a fast learner.

“this looks perfect! thanks, beoms,” you say warmly. he’s stunned for a second at the nickname.

“beoms?” 

“yeah, like beomgyu. beoms,” you say with a casual shrug, and something in his chest blossoms. “i give all of my friends nicknames.” and something in his chest explodes at the title of “friend”. 

“you do?” he asks excitedly.

“yeah. like, i call soobin ‘soobinie’ or ‘soobie’, sometimes,” you giggle, and the bloom of hope in his chest dies with it. 

“are you two close?” he asks, even though he knows the answer will probably hurt him.

“very. he’s my best friend,” you answer fondly. oh. you’re beomgyu’s best friend — you’re beomgyu’s only friend, and tentatively at that. the idea that the deep connection he feels with you is even deeper with someone else, at least in your eyes, makes him feel sick. do you let soobin play with your hair? do you hum along to songs you’ve shown him while he does it? do you smile at him after he’s finished and compliment him on his skills? probably, probably, probably. the ugly feeling that was previously completely foreign to him now takes its usual place in his chest, and it makes his stomach hurt so much that if he could vomit, his metaphorical dinner would be all over the floor.

“oh,” is all he can say. 

-

days turn into weeks, and weeks turn into months, but every time beomgyu awakens, he finds you smiling up at him. this can’t be good for your bank account — he’s quite expensive to rent, after all — but he’s far too afraid to actually bring it up. what if you realize just how much money you’re sinking into him and want to stop renting him? what will he do if you don’t want him anymore? he feels an incomparable sense of dread at the thought. 

he prepares to sit on the couch and watch something, listen to music, or even play a video game with you. you two have gotten into them recently, and he’s discovered that he very much enjoys playing with you, even when you’re yelling at him and demanding that he stop letting you win. he can’t help but grin when he thinks about it. you start playing a song, and you do, indeed, invite him to sit on the couch, but you don’t sit down next to him and start babbling away about your day like you usually would. 

“do you think you could do me a favor?” you ask. 

“what, do you want me to wash your dishes?” he jokes, and you share a laugh before you say your next words, but all laughter and joy is profusely sucked out of him when you say them.

“no, smartass, but can you braid my hair for me? i’m going over to soobin’s tonight, and i want it out of my way.” 

“soobin’s?”

“yeah, it’s been a while since i’ve stayed the night, and he said we’re way past due for it,” you tell him, and the world as beomgyu knows it comes crashing down around him. 

“you’re staying the night with him?” 

“mhm. he’s right, it’s been too long; but don’t worry, i bought a pass so you can play video games online. there’s even a headset so you can talk to people, if you want. maybe you’ll even make some friends,” you say while playfully waggling your eyebrows. beomgyu’s silence is pensive, to say the very least, and you worry that he’s apprehensive of making a friend that isn't you. 

“seriously, you might like it. it’ll be good for you to meet more people, honestly. i’m sure it’s driving you crazy to only have me to talk to,” you jokingly add, but to beomgyu, it’s the worst joke he’s ever heard. no, it does not drive him crazy to only talk to you every day. in fact, even though he’s not conscious during the time you spend away from each other, he thinks, deep down, that he still somehow misses you when you’re apart. and no, he does not think he needs to have anyone but you. you are more than enough for him, so how could you ever think he needs more? again, he is taunted by that same strange and implacable feeling he’s been having ever since he met you, yet he can’t quite put his finger on it, even when he nods and tells you that he’ll try making new friends. 

but as he brushes out your hair and you sing along to the words:

"i’m glad i didn’t die before i met you

but now i don’t care

i could go anywhere with you

and i’d probably be happy"

he finally understands what that feeling is. that warm, all-consuming feeling. that feeling of comfort, safety, and unconditional understanding. that feeling of infinite curiosity about the other person. that feeling of wanting to known and be known in a way so profound it physically aches. 

yes, as he gathers your hair and ever-so-gently twists it in his hands in preparation for you staying the night with a man you clearly prefer over him, the feeling becomes clear as day. love. what he feels for you is love — an emotion he should never be able to even fathom, yet he does. 

and it makes him loathe himself to a degree he never thought he was capable of.

he’s so put off by this sentiment, he almost can’t finish the braid because his hands are shaking so much, but somehow, he finishes, anyway. 

“are you done?” you ask as you fiddle with your hair and look back at him.

“mhm,” he replies. 

“yay! thank you!” you say giddily. 

“you’re welcome,” he mumbles. you’re not stupid, so you notice that something is off about him, but you just assume it’s because he’s nervous about being left alone to make new friends. you feel guilty in a certain sense, but it’ll be good for him to branch out and meet new people, so you tuck the feeling away as best as you can before packing your nightly essentials and getting ready to leave.

“i’ll be back tomorrow morning,” you tell him, and he only nods with his lips pursed, which makes your heart feel sour.

“try not to miss me too much,” you tease, but it doesn’t seem to cheer him up in the slightest. 

“have fun,” he replies weakly, and your previously sour heart now kind of aches, but you have to do this for him. you can't always be beside him for everything, right? besides, it's only for the night.

you open the door to leave, but before you go, you turn back to him and he senses hesitation in you. before he can question it, you’re opening your arms, and his eyes widen when he realizes you’re inviting him in for a hug. you almost regret doing it as soon as you open them for fear of making him uncomfortable, but he embraces you before you have time to process such feelings. on beomgyu’s end, he has always been wary of touch for obvious reasons, but he gravitates towards your open arms like he was meant to be in them.

he rests his chin on the top of your head for a moment and you spend an unknown length of time just standing with your arms wrapped around each other. 

“i’ll miss you,” you admit, and before you can smack yourself for being so dramatic and sentimental over what will ultimately only be one night, you can swear you feel his grip tightening even more around you.

eventually, you break away and look up at him with a smile. you ruffle his hair and promise to see him later, and he answers you with a nod. then, you're leaving and locking the door behind you.

immediately, beomgyu feels a sense of loss he’s never felt before. after all, to experience loss, you must have something worth losing in the first place, and he has never had anything like that. at least, not until you. so he stands at the door for who knows how long, just like a puppy waiting for his owner to get home. 

-

soobin can sense you’re out of it before you even finish crossing through his doorway, and it puts a halt to your typically overdramatic greeting. 

“what’s the matter? are you feeling okay?” he questions concernedly as he pulls you in for a hug. you nod before you break apart from him and walk through the threshold. 

“y-yeah. it’s just, i don’t know, i guess i just feel bad about leaving beomgyu all by himself,” you tell him as you plop down on his couch. 

“the android you’ve been renting?” he asks incredulously. “i’ve been meaning to ask you about that, actually. why’re you renting it so much? i barely even see you anymore. is the sex that good?” 

“you know i don’t use androids like that,” you snap in annoyance, partially because he’s calling beomgyu “it”.

“i know, which is why i’m so confused. why rent it in the first place if you’re not getting anything out of it?” 

you struggle to answer his question. you promised beomgyu you’d keep his secret, but you trust soobin, and you know he won’t judge him, or worse, report him. besides, it’ll be good to have an unbiased third party weigh in on the situation. with this in mind, you tell him about beomgyu, skipping over some of the more personal details. he’s in disbelief at first and actually thinks you’re just fucking with him, but as you tell him more and more about the time you’ve spent together, his smile falls and his face turns serious. 

“so that’s why i feel so guilty about leaving him alone,” you finish with a deep sigh. he’s silent for a few moments before collecting his thoughts.

“god, i can’t believe this is actually happening,” he whispers.

“i know. it’s insane, but it’s true. he’s just so… human. you should've seen the way he looked at me when i told him i was leaving. i don’t think i’ve ever seen anyone look so sad before.” 

“well, you’re right about him needing to make friends,” he says with a nod, and it validates all of your misgivings about leaving him alone. “but don’t you think you should, i don’t know, think about what all of this means?” 

“what do you mean?” you ask, and in that moment, he knows you have no idea about the way beomgyu probably feels about you. he’s not 100% confident in his deductions, but the way you describe how beomgyu acts around you pretty much tells him everything he needs to know. 

“i mean, you basically have a completely sentient creature who relies on you for everything. if he’s as human as you say he is, then he can probably feel everything that we do. right now, i’d guess that he feels like you’re all he knows.” and the sneaking sense of guilt that was previously threatening to creep up on you is now completely overwhelming. you’re all he knows. and you left him all alone to fend for himself and make his own friends. yes, he needs to learn how to make connections, but how could you expect him to know how to do that? it took weeks for him to finally seem comfortable around you, so how could he possibly know how to make them on his own? moreover, even though it's nothing to you, you're his entire world. he must feel like you abandoned him.

“i’ve gotta go,” you mumble.

“what?” he asks. 

“i–i’ve gotta go home,” you repeat as you hurriedly stand up and hug him goodbye. 

“wait! i think you should —” 

“love you, bye!” you shout as you book it out of the doorway. 

-

when you return home, you open the door to see beomgyu listlessly staring at the television screen. when he hears you, he turns to look at you with watery eyes. he looks so lost in this moment, and all of your suspicions are confirmed.

“beoms, i am so sorry,” you tell him as you rush over and throw your arms around him. 

“for what?” he asks with a gulp as he stays in your embrace, shakily wrapping his arms around your waist.

“i’m sorry for leaving you all by yourself. i thought it was just for one night, so it’d be alright, but you don’t have anyone but me right now; and i realize that it’s unfair for me to expect you to meet other people all on your own when you’ve never had to do it before. if you want friends, i’ll help you, okay? i’ll be there with you as you do it,” you tell him, and you feel his body trembling. 

“i-i’m sorry. i know it’s not a big deal, but when you’re not with me, i feel so scared. i… i don’t know how to do anything by myself. i’m s-sorry i need you so much,” he whispers, and your heart breaks. 

“don’t be sorry,” you say gently. “how about this: i’ll join you online and we can talk to people together. then, when you’re ready, you can start hanging out with my friends in person, too, okay? we can keep going until you don’t need me anymore.” beomgyu outwardly agrees, which seems to put you at ease, but there’s just one issue: he’ll always need you.

-

gaming online is actually really fun, but making friends is hard for someone like beomgyu. he’s quiet and a little awkward at first, but after a few nights and with your help, he finally warms up to the people he games with. he gets so comfortable, in fact, that he’s even able to shit talk with them a little. 

“fuckkk, that’s so unfair!” his new friend, kai, wails over the headset. 

“it’s not unfair, you just suck,” beomgyu chuckles, and kai whines again. you laugh at their interaction before kai continues.

“how are you so fucking good at this game? you’ve only been playing for a few nights, and you’re already better than me!” he pouts. 

“i’m just gifted,” beomgyu boasts.

“very true,” you add, and he beams, but kai’s next words throw him off-kilter.

“whatever. stop asking your girlfriend to argue with me — you two make me sick,” he jokes with his signature maniacal laugh, but the two of you are too stunned to laugh along. you look at each other in sheer embarrassment, and you can see beomgyu’s ears turning bright pink beneath his blond hair. you’re not sure why you feel so mortified, but you do. this is beomgyu, for god’s sake. there’s no earthly way you could ever see him in anything other than a purely platonic way, so why does your heart feel uneasy at the notion? while you’re still too stunned to speak, beomgyu tries to pipe up and respond.

“sh-she’s — we’re not, uh —” 

“damn it!” kai yells as his character dies yet again, and any momentum beomgyu previously had to clear up the misunderstanding is killed stone dead in its tracks. 

he turns to look at you unsurely, but the awkward moment seems to have passed for you as you laugh at kai’s character’s death. if only he could be as unfazed.

after kai goes offline, you two decide to quit gaming for the night. you turn to beomgyu nervously, and he immediately knows that you’re going to say something serious. he hopes beyond hope that it’s not about what kai said.

“can i ask you something?” and his heart sinks. oh god, you probably caught onto his feelings. he’s not sure he has the confidence to tell the truth, but how could he lie to you?

“y-yes,” he replies, voice a bit unsteady.

“okay, you can say no if you want, but soobin invited us to a get together he’s having pretty soon. it’s not anything too crazy, so there’ll only be a few of us. i think it’ll be a good start for you. maybe you’ll even make some new friends, you know?” he’s silent at your words just out of sheer shock. he’d definitely missed the mark when guessing your intentions. 

“it’s okay to say no,” you hurriedly add, “but my friends are really nice, and i’d be with you the entire time. even if you don’t talk to anybody, you can talk to me.”

“okay,” he agrees before he can even really think about it. he guesses he’s just relieved that you still don’t know about his feelings, but part of him aches even still. 

“really?” you ask incredulously. “oh my god! i have to tell soobin — he’ll be so excited!” you babble, and his lips curl upwards at how happy you are. he wishes he could always make you happy like this, and it seems that he’d agree to absolutely anything if you were the one asking.

-

work has been especially taxing today, which is nothing new, but you have this insatiable suspicion that something feels… off as you finish up for the day. as you’re about to head out for the night, you wonder what beomgyu will want to do once you get home. maybe he’ll want to play games with kai, or maybe he’ll want to watch a movie with you. maybe he’ll let you cuddle up to him for warmth, which he’s been very willing to do, lately. the unspoken rule that you two will never touch has become blurry for some reason, but you’re pretty touchy with all of your friends, so it only feels like a matter of course to you. 

you’re thinking about all of the potential ways tonight could play out when it hits you: you didn’t reserve beomgyu. you spit out a curse and hurriedly take out your phone to book him, but it’s too late. he’s already assigned to someone for the night. fuck.

when you get home, you’re anxious beyond belief. you haven’t spent a night without beomgyu in months, but more importantly, he hasn’t spent a night without you. you try not to think about how scared he will be when he’s powered on in a stranger’s home. you hope he’s able to just switch back to his initial programming, but somehow, you just know it won’t be that easy. you feel sick with worry when you think about how someone so human will have to involuntarily turn his feelings off and pretend to enjoy something he’s being forced to do — with no compensation, no less. he must think you abandoned him. he must think you don’t care about him. how could you forget to reserve him when he needs you so much? fuck how busy you were with work, his wellbeing should have been your first priority.

so you sit and watch the hours tick by. you try to relax. you try to tell yourself it’s only for one night, and he’s been doing it for years, but something just feels wrong, wrong, wrong. you’re about to try to force yourself to go to sleep so the night ends more quickly when you hear a rapid knocking on your door. it’s strange for someone to call on you so late, indeed, but when you look through your peephole, you see none other than the very boy you’ve been worrying about. 

“beomgyu?” you say incredulously when you swing open the door. immediately, he embraces you, and you feel hot tears streaming down your neck as he nuzzles his face into it. you hold him as best as you can as you rub circles into his back and try to shush his cries.

“it’s okay, i’m here,” you tell him, and he whines. you try to break away to get a good look at him, but he just pulls you in even closer, as if you’re his only lifeline in this world, and in a way, you are.

after his breathing slows and his sobs die out, he reluctantly parts from you, so you hold his hand and lead him to your couch. his eyes are swollen and bloodshot while his nose is a bright pink, but he never once takes his eyes off of you for fear of letting you out of his sight. in his mind, you can’t leave as long as he can see you.

“are you alright?” you tentatively ask, hand still holding his and soothingly caressing it in an attempt to calm him down. he goes to nod before stopping himself and shaking his head in the negative. your eyes soften even more at the action.

“do you want to talk about what happened?” you try, and he nods before clearing his throat.

“i, um, i woke up and i was at this woman’s house. she… she wanted me to get undressed, but i didn’t want to, so she started doing it for me.” you wince at his words, but he’s not finished yet. 

“she kept touching me, and it was so disgusting i just — i just couldn't stand it, so i ran away and came here. i don’t mean to make your life harder, and i won’t ask for you to stay the night with me anymore, but if you could just let me stay here, i promise i’ll learn how to clean or do anything you want. please, just don’t make me —” 

“beomgyu, stop it,” you say softly, but firmly. “you are not making my life harder. you can stay here as much as you want and do whatever you want while you’re here. i’m so sorry, i didn’t mean for this to happen. i was just so busy with work, and by the time i realized it, somebody had already booked you. i promise you that it’ll never happen again, okay? so you don't have to be afraid. i’m not leaving you, and i won’t let anyone hurt you, either.” 

you don’t think you’ve ever seen anyone look so relieved before. it looks as though you just saved his life, and to beomgyu, you essentially did. he holds your hand even tighter, as if you’re the only thing keeping him from falling off the face of this planet. 

“wait here, i’ll get you some clothes,” you say gently, but as you go to leave, he holds you even tighter. your eyebrow quirks in a silent question at his actions, and he looks sheepish for a moment before saying his next words.

“c-can we just stay like this for a bit? just for a little while? i’m still scared,” he mumbles, and your heart melts.

“of course. come here,” you beckon, and he falls into your arms and rests his head on your shoulder, breathing your scent in as he tries to imprint this moment into his hardware. you stay like that for a while before you finally convince him to change out of his uncomfortable clothes. he reluctantly lets you go, and his eyes follow you everywhere you walk. 

that night, you stay up later than usual to spend more time with him. he stays glued to your side and ensures that he’s always touching you in some way, which is endearing in a way you can’t seem to put into words. when you’re about to head to bed for the night, you swear you hear him whimper, but he lets you go, anyway. as you lay your head down and get comfortable under the covers, you hear a timid knocking on your door. you call him in, and his gaze shyly flickers between you and the floor. 

“c-can i stay with you tonight? i won’t bother you, i swear. it’s just — i just still feel weird. y-you can say no! i just thought that —”

“come here,” you softly interrupt, and he doesn’t hesitate to listen. he closes the door behind him and shuffles towards you, stopping uncertainly at the edge of the bed in a silent plea for permission to enter it. you feel a weird, warm feeling in your chest when he does it. you scoot over and pat the open space next to you before he gathers enough courage to slide in. you cover him with your blanket, and he stiffly accepts it. you giggle at his awkwardness and cuddle up to him, placing your arms around his waist before thinking better of it. how could you just invade his personal space when he’s clearly traumatized? you go to remove your arms and scoot away before he firmly locks you in place.

“it’s okay,” he whispers, settling himself into your embrace and mindlessly toying with the ends of your hair.

“are you sure?” you ask.

“i’m sure.”

it isn't long before beomgyu hears your breathing slow down, and eventually he hears you begin to snore. he smiles at the sound. he can't really sleep, but he's perfectly content with watching you rest. he continues to play with your hair, and you nuzzle into his touch every so often. he doesn’t want to repeat the events leading up to tonight, but he would do it all over again — any number of times — with a smile on his face if it meant he got to be with you like this again. 

-

the next morning, beomgyu waits for the usual delivery guy from the company to pick him up, but it’s currently way past the usual pickup time. he’s most certainly not complaining, but you don’t seem even remotely fazed by the matter. however, while you’re casually flipping through your streaming catalog literal hours after he’d already be gone, he can’t stop himself from asking:

“um, d-do you know when i’m being picked up?” you pause, and he worries that he may have said the wrong thing before you turn to him.

“do you want to be picked up?” you ask solemnly.

“n-no! of course not. it’s just, you know, i’d usually be gone by now, so i —” 

“do you want to stay here? with me, i mean,” you interrupt.

“i… i do,” he replies with a gulp. usually, that’d be all you get from him, but it feels like the perfect opportunity to be honest about his feelings. “i always want to stay with you, but i know i’m expensive, and i don’t want to be a bother.” he looks ashamed as he admits it, but if he had the courage to look in your eyes, he’d note the fondness that lies within them.

“i told you that you’re not a bother to me. i also told you that you could stay here for as long as you want, remember?” and he does, so he nods. 

“alright. i meant it when i said it last night, and i mean it now. if you want to be here, you can stay for as long as you’d like. you don't have to worry about your owners anymore, i promise.” and he thinks he’s never seen you as serious as you are now. he wonders what you mean before it dawns on him.

“you… did you buy me?” he asks in disbelief.

“y-yeah. i’m sorry, it sounds so gross when i hear it out loud, but that doesn’t mean that i own you or anything. what i really wanted to buy was your freedom, so you can stay as long as you want, but that also means that you can leave whenever you want, too.”

“i’m so sorry,” he says in a hushed, hurried tone. “i know i'm expensive. i’m really sorry.”

“money is not an object to me,” you dismiss in faux arrogance with a wave of your hand in hopes that it’ll lighten the mood, but beomgyu can’t stop the tears from falling over his waterlines, and you’re afraid your attempt to help him only made him feel more indebted to you. all worry is promptly washed away when you feel him pull you into his arms. 

“thank you,” he just barely breathes out. “i don’t know how i’ll ever pay you back, but i’ll try, i swear.”

“you don’t have to do anything for me, beoms. i should’ve done it a lot sooner, but i’m just a little slow, i guess,” you muse, and he chuckles softly into your neck.

-

sleeping with beomgyu should’ve only happened once, but every night when you say you’re heading to bed, he looks at you with puppy eyes and you find yourself inviting him to come along. each time, he looks so excited that if he had a tail, it would most certainly be wagging. he obediently follows you to your room and settles into the empty space next to you before holding you in his arms as you drift off. he’s even taken to humming the tunes of songs he likes when you struggle to settle down, and his baritone voice lulls you to sleep like a charm every time. he spends his time by just looking at you and trying to reconcile with his new reality. this is real. he gets to spend however many nights he wants next to you, as per your own words. even if you didn’t mean them, he plans to take them seriously. he is perfectly content with spending the rest of his life just sleeping with you, looking at you, being with you. 

-

soobin’s get together is tonight, and you look different than usual. your typical look is very casual, which makes sense because you’re only ever at home when you’re with him, but you are now primped and ready to be seen, and it makes him anxious because you look even more lovable. he knows these people are your friends, so they must’ve seen you dressed up before, but that only makes him all the more uneasy; they know a side of you he is only now seeing, and it makes that same old ugly feeling he's grown so accustomed to sprout in his chest. 

when you arrive at soobin’s place, the first thing you do when soobin swings open the door is jump in his arms like you didn’t just see him a week ago. he spins you around with a dimpled grin that’s so sincere, beomgyu feels emotionally decimated by it. you both giggle as you break apart, and the jealousy beomgyu feels brewing within feels unpacifiable. 

“is this beomgyu?” soobin asks, grin still very much apparent.

“yes! you’re gonna love him,” you answer giddily. 

“it’s nice to meet you,” soobin says warmly while stretching out his hand, which beomgyu awkwardly shakes while he tries to force his lips to curl upwards in what he prays is a believable smile.

“nice to meet you,” he mumbles.

“everyone’s already here, but you’re late as always,” soobin playfully chastises, and you pout in response.

everyone greets you when you walk in, mostly by hugging you and lightheartedly scolding you for not coming out anymore. they’re very clearly bantering with you, but each reproach feels like a knife to beomgyu’s heart. he’s the reason you haven’t seen them in so long. 

clueless to it all, you introduce him as your friend to everyone, which only makes him feel worse, somehow. he is just one friend out of many, meanwhile you’re his entire world. you’re far too caught up in the joy of seeing some of your favorite people after so long to notice his dismay, however.

you lead him to soobin’s couch to have a seat with you and one of your friends, taehyun maybe, offers him a drink, to which he awkwardly declines. you quickly follow up with something to the effect of “he isn’t much of a drinker,” and beomgyu nods in affirmation. you try your best to include beomgyu in conversation, but they’re all talking about people and places he doesn't know. all he knows is you, and the world you two built together seems smaller and smaller with every new topic of conversation. 

he notices that soobin seems to be eyeing him somewhat strangely, though he tries his best to play it off. he could just attribute it to surface level curiosity, but his intuition tells him it’s much deeper than that. is soobin sizing up his competition? maybe so, but there’s not much to see. beomgyu is handsome, and he knows it, but soobin knows a side of you beomgyu has only ever heard stories about. you’ve told him about your friends and the goings on between you and your coworkers, but it pales in comparison to actually meeting them. he makes an internal note to ask even more questions than he usually does the next time you’re telling him about your day. until then, he sits as close to you as humanly possible and clings onto your arm, which is so second nature to you, you don't even notice that he’s doing it. 

soobin, who is usually not the inquisitive type, can’t help but question the dynamic between you and beomgyu. at first, the lingering glances and intimate gestures were innocuous enough to be written off as mere friendliness, but when you whisper something in beomgyu’s ear and he flushes a bright pink, soobin knows he can’t ignore it any longer. he especially can’t ignore it when you turn away from beomgyu and he raises a hand to the ear you just whispered into as if he’s reliving the moment. well, time to test his theory. 

soobin slides into the open cushion next to you and begins excitedly chattering about how pretty you look tonight, and he even takes your braided hair into his hands and twirls it between his fingers.

“your hair looks pretty,” he muses.

“beomgyu did it, actually,” you grin, and soobin glances over to said boy, who is currently glaring daggers at him. the look in beomgyu’s eyes is so intense, he almost wants to back off, but he has to get to the bottom of this. 

“did he? you know, it’s been a while since you stayed over. wanna have a sleepover tonight? you have some clothes here from last time, and we can cuddle, i know you like that,” he says as innocently as he possibly can. 

before you can even reply, beomgyu is slamming his hands on the coffee table. you turn to face him in surprise, and the look on his face is the angriest you’ve ever seen him. his eyes are dark and his nostrils are flared as he heavily breathes. he’s never been angry at all in front of you, actually, so to say you’re taken aback is the understatement of the century. 

“beoms? what’s wrong?” you ask concernedly, completely turning away from soobin. your voice is enough to somewhat placate him, but before he can fully calm down, soobin is saying his next words.

“i’m sure he’s fine. beomgyu, you can find your way home tonight on your own, can’t you?” beomgyu is positively seething at this. before you can question him again, he’s gripping your hand so tightly it’s like it’s the only thing keeping him from drowning, so you excuse the both of you and drag him to the bathroom for some privacy.

“are you alright?” you ask, frantically scanning his figure for some sort of sign of pain or discomfort. 

“i-i’m fine, i just, uh, i don’t feel good,” he says flatly. 

“what’s wrong? is it too much? do we need to go home?” he’s so flustered, he barely registers that you’re calling your house “home”, but he still notices it in spite of everything, and it’s like a balm on his aching heart. 

“y-yeah, can we go home? please?” he pleads, and you hurriedly nod. 

“of course, just let me say bye to everyone before we leave, okay?” and he wants to say no, but he’s as weak as ever in front of you, so he relents.

that doesn’t stop him from gripping your hand, though, as you say goodbye to everyone. you go to give soobin your usual hug, but beomgyu pulls you back to him even more tightly. you write it off as him not feeling well and just wanting to leave as soon as possible, to which you oblige, and before you know it, you two are scurrying out of soobin’s place like there’s something chasing you.

as you’re driving home, you feel your phone buzz in your pocket, but it isn’t until you’re walking through your doorway that you check it. 

soobie: we need to talk. call me as soon as you get home

you’re worried beyond belief at his serious tone, so you tell beomgyu that you’ve got to make a call before ducking into your bedroom. you don’t shut the door behind you, because why would you? 

you quickly call soobin and the line connects after just one ring.

“what’s wrong?” you ask anxiously, and soobin just sighs, which makes you all the more anxious.

“we have to talk about beomgyu.” 

“beomgyu? what about him? is something wrong?” you question.

“yeah, i mean, maybe. this might sound crazy, but i think — i know — he likes you.” you’re stunned silly for just a moment before bursting into laughter.

“likes me? what the hell are you talking about?” you dismiss, and you sense his agitation even through the phone.

“i’m serious. i had a feeling before, but tonight just confirmed it. he likes you.” you’re silent for a moment, just trying to process his words, but once your mind somewhat clears, you can’t help but deny, deny, deny.

“you’re wrong. it’s not like that at all. i’m just the first person who’s ever treated him nicely, and i —” 

“you’re not listening,” he cuts in irritatedly. “he looked like he wanted to skin me alive tonight. how else do you explain that?” 

“soobie,” you sigh. “you’ve got it all wrong. maybe you’re right and maybe he was feeling insecure, but that’s probably because i’m the only person he knows. he most likely just felt like you were stealing my attention away.” 

“you’re always so dense about these things, you know?” he groans. “okay, look, i’m not sure how they came about, but i do know that he has feelings for you. maybe it started out as dependence, i’m not sure, but it’s definitely much more than that now.” 

“that’s impossible,” you snort, actually feeling a bit impatient now. how could he possibly think that your relationship with beomgyu was anything other than platonic? 

“why? because he’s a robot?” oh, that shuts you up. “just think about it. if he were a human, would you still be saying the same thing? like i said before, if he’s as human as you say he is, he can feel the same way we do, and he’s definitely capable of feeling love, too.” you are, again, stunned into silence. suddenly, as if there was a fog that covered your brain before, things that you never really considered become clear to you. the soft touches, the gentleness. sleeping in the same bed and waiting for you to get home. wanting you — needing you — around all the time. the way he plays with your hair. the way he’s so interested in everything you have to say. the clinginess, the dependence. it all makes so much more sense to you. 

“i —” you begin, but you just so happen to glance up and see beomgyu right outside of your doorway… looking absolutely devastated. 

“i’ve gotta go,” you tell soobin as you hang up, not even bothering to say your usual goodbye. 

“beoms, did you hear us?” you ask tentatively, and he flinches a little bit before looking down at the floor and nodding.

you’re unsure of how to navigate this situation from here, but while you’re still trying to figure it out, beomgyu speaks.

“i-i’m so sorry,” he says hurriedly. “i understand if you don’t want me anymore.” 

“w-what? no, i —” 

“i’m just really sorry,” he says, looking as ashamed as a person ever could. “i know it’s wrong, i know it’s disgusting, but i —” 

“beomgyu.” 

“but i can’t help it. i wish i could, but i just can’t; and i understand if you want to return me or whatever, but if you could just —” 

“beomgyu, stop it,”  you interrupt firmly, no room for argument. he stares at you with defeated eyes, and you feel your heart break in two. “i am not disgusted, and i don’t want to return you.” his eyebrows furrow as if he doesn't quite understand, so you continue. 

“your feelings are not disgusting to me, don’t ever say that again, okay? please? it makes me sad,” you plead, and he hesitantly nods. “i think it’s normal, actually. you don’t really know anybody else other than me, so of course you’re confused.” 

“confused?” he asks incredulously, eyes snapping up to meet yours.

“confused,” you nod. “it'll change once you meet more people, i swear.” you try to smile reassuringly, but suddenly, you see tears welling up in beomgyu’s eyes. 

“beoms?” you carefully try.

“i don't need to meet more people. i just need you,” he chokes out. “don't tell me i'm confused because i'm not. i-i'd rather you just say you don't want to be with me than tell me that.” your heart clenches at his words, but he continues. 

“i just want to be with you, no one else,” he tells you desperately. “i can understand if you don't feel the same way, but i can't stand to hear you say i don’t love you, because i do. i really, really do.” and as if you're dissociating, your mind is bombarded by times where he's shown you this exact sentiment. again, you go back to every intimate moment you two have ever shared. it was easy to just chalk it up to his lack of experience, but when he's telling you that's not the case so earnestly, is it truly possible to still believe it’s nothing? after a while, you decide that it most certainly is not. 

the question is: do you feel the same way? you try to put a name to the feelings you have when you’re with him. the trust you have, the understanding. the desire to share everything you know and like with him, no matter how mundane it may seem to others; and consequently, the endearment towards him when you see how eager he is to listen. more than that, the intimacy between you two. how you like waking up to him smiling down at you, and how when something happens, he’s the first one you want to tell, good or bad. how when you listen to new music, you feel excited at the prospect of sharing it with him. 

you realize you want to know more about him, the happy things and even the sad things. why he is the way that he is, why he thinks the way he thinks. the peace you feel when he’s running his fingers through your hair and holding you close when you watch the same film for the dozenth time. you try to picture a world where somebody else rented him. a world in which somebody else got to see him as soon as they wake up or as soon as they get home from a particularly grueling day at work, and you finally understand that you wouldn’t like that at all. but why? you’ve only ever thought of him as a friend, right? so why does it matter to you? 

your eyes focus on beomgyu again, and you notice how utterly defeated he looks. his heart is on full display for you — and you alone — as tears stream freely down his pretty, doll-like face. are these tears just for you? you think so. is it safe to trust that these feelings he has for you are real? you’re not sure, but you want to. still, there’s something stopping you.

“i think… i think i feel the same way,” you admit, and his previously downtrodden appearance immediately lights up with hope. “but we shouldn’t.” and the words are like lead in your mouth. 

“why not?” he asks, clearly distressed. you just gave him an inch, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t take a mile. he never in a million years would have thought that you’d ever reciprocate his feelings, so he can’t just let them go so easily.

“i just… it’s just not something that i can —” 

“is it because i’m an android?” he questions, voice teeming with self-loathing. 

“n-no! i mean, we’re just so different,” you tell him, trying to skirt around the topic as best as you possibly can, but he won’t have it.

“whatever it is, i’ll change it. please? i can do anything,” he pleads. 

“it’s not like that. i want to, but we can't. i-i'll get older. i won't look the same — i won't be the same,” and it’s embarrassing as hell to admit it out loud, but you mean it. beomgyu’s urgent gaze softens, and he inches closer to you before he’s standing before you. he reaches out to gently cup your face and tenderly pushes your hair behind your ears.

“and what about me?” 

“what about you?” you scoff, but you don't pull away from his touch, though your eyes do dart away. “you’ll still be you, and i’ll be old and —” 

“what about when my parts start creaking? what about when i don’t remember things like i’m supposed to? you’ll still love me then, right?” he asks, but he already knows, and your eyes snap back to his.

“th-that’s different. you can get repairs. i can’t —” 

“then i won’t. you’ll get old and gray and i’ll get rundown and out-of-date. i don’t care what happens, as long as i’m with you.” you’re silent in the wake of his heavy words, so he quickly continues.

“you told me that when you love somebody, you’d do anything to be with them. you said you always find a way, and i want to find a way to be with you.” your heart simultaneously warms and aches at this sentiment. 

you consider what it would be like to be with him. things would be difficult, yes, but not impossible. maybe you’ll come to regret it someday, but you don’t want to think about that right now. you feel like the luckiest girl in the world when you think of the fact that somebody so beautiful, inside and out, wants to be with you. you don't think you’ve done anything particularly special for him, but he still wants and accepts you for everything that you are and ever will be.

“okay,” you say shakily, and you finally recognize that his hands are still very much cupping your face, fingers lovingly rubbing against your cheeks. he smiles in pure relief at your answer, but he makes no move to break away his hold on you. 

you notice how his gaze flicks between your eyes and your lips, and you decide you'll have mercy on him as you lean up to him and press a chaste kiss on his pouty lips before parting. he’s visibly red at the action, and you grin at how flustered he looks. on beomgyu’s end, he feels another bloom of excitement and swell of hope threatening to overcome him. when he looks at the playfulness in your eyes, he smiles even wider. 

“i love you,” he whispers affectionately.

you pause before you tell him:

“i love you, too, beoms.”

-

that night, beomgyu is even clingier than usual. he sticks like gum to your side. when you head to sleep, he eagerly nestles in your bed and holds his arms wide open. you follow his lead and settle into his warm embrace. he sings you one of his favorite songs you’ve ever shown him. the last words you hear before you sink into sleep are:

“to die by your side

is such a heavenly way to die

to die by your side, well

the pleasure, the privilege is mine”

notes pt. 2: sfw work ends here!

you and beomgyu have been “together” for a few weeks now, so the relationship is still very new. surprisingly or not, things seem more or less the same. you guess you never realized just how intimate you two have always been until you put a label on things. the only tangible differences are that instead of just a mere hug when he greets you, he plants kisses all over your face before finding his ways to your lips. and when you’re watching movies or even just talking, he’ll steal a kiss or two. and when you head to bed, you know you can expect him to catch your lips like a man starved before you sleep. things get heated, sometimes, but they never lead to anything besides labored breaths and promises to calm himself down. you take his hesitancy as him wanting to take it slow and treasure your first time together, and you realize he still may be traumatized from the years he spent as a sexbot. 

you have apologized to him for telling soobin his secret. you let him know your reasoning for telling him, and he accepted your apology quite graciously. honestly? he was never mad, and he tells you that very clearly, but you still feel somewhat guilty even when he says he understands. your guilt is only absolved when he says he’s thankful you told soobin because things may have never changed without his wise input. he says that he’s grateful to soobin for being a voice of reason in the face of your emotional density. you blushed when he told you this, and apologized for being so slow on the uptake, but he just assured you that he wouldn’t have you any other way, which made you love him even more, somehow. 

you’re now about to go to soobin’s again for another get together with your friends. second time’s the charm, you cheekily told him when you brought it up, and he blushed in response. when you two walk through the doorway, everyone cheers. you greet everyone as usual, and beomgyu tries his best to keep his searing jealousy at bay, but his anxiety starts clawing at him as soobin seats himself next to you and asks you how you are. 

you giggle and tell him you’re doing well, and he responds by updating you on his tumultuous work life. beomgyu immediately wonders why you haven’t told soobin about your new relationship. are you embarrassed to be seen with him? it’s not like he doesn’t understand, what with him technically being made out of wires and machinery. of course a human like you wouldn’t want to be seen with a metal man like him. you could have the entire world in your hands if you wanted, so what’s the point of playing pretend with a fake like him? maybe, if he were you, he’d be embarrassed, too. he likes to think that maybe you aren’t like that, but at the end of the day, how could you not be? he’s nothing more than a robot masquerading as the real thing. 

his anxiety worsens the more in depth your conversation with soobin gets. you try to include him by briefly giving him context about the stories soobin tells, but he can’t stop himself from worrying. again, he feels like soobin is stealing you away from him, and his mood sours. 

your other friends try to talk to him, too, but he’s very obviously in a bad mood as he watches you two continue to laugh together. when you finally do turn to beomgyu, you immediately notice how awful he looks. 

“beoms? are you alright?” you ask gingerly, but beomgyu’s discomfort is not at all placated even at the term of endearment. 

“‘m fine,” he mumbles, and you’re genuinely in shock at his change of attitude. soobin looks very concerned, but he excuses himself to get a drink so you two can work it out, though he has an inkling of an idea of what’s triggering beomgyu. 

“what’s wrong with you?” you ask concernedly, but he shakes his head sulkily.

“do you wanna go home?” you offer, and he immediately nods. you look torn for a second, but when you see how sad he looks, you know you can’t deny him.

you say your goodbyes to your friends and apologize for leaving early, but everyone says they understand. soobin makes you promise to host the next get together, though, to which you happily agree. 

the ride home is mostly silent, but you look over to beomgyu in concern every so often. you grab his hand and squeeze it in a way you hope is comforting, but he doesn’t look any better at all.

when you enter your house, you immediately head to your bedroom, and he follows you in silence. you sit on the bed and pat the space next to you. 

“beoms, what’s the matter?” you ask pleadingly as you grab his hands, and his heart, which was previously aching, is (a little) soothed by your concern. 

“i-it’s nothing,” he answers, but you can tell that he’s lying because of the way he refuses to make eye contact with you. 

“baby, i can’t help you if you won’t tell me what’s wrong,” you say. you’re right, and he knows you’re right, but you’re already doing him the favor of a lifetime just by deigning to be with him. how could he dare to ask for more? he’s ashamed at the thought, but you look so sincere, and he knows in his metaphorical heart that he needs to be able to communicate with you if you two are going to have any shot at a lasting relationship.

“i-i’m just j-jealous,” he sputters. 

“oh, baby, why?” you ask. 

“because i’m not like you,” he admits after a pause. “i already feel like i’m not good enough for you, so seeing you with someone who actually is makes me feel awful.”

“who? soobin?” and you’re absolutely petrified when he sheepishly nods. 

“honey, it’s not like that at all,” you tell him. “we’re just friends, i promise.” 

“but it would be so much easier to be with him. you wouldn’t have to be ashamed about telling everyone you’re with an android,” he argues. 

“beomgyu, i am not ashamed of you. i just wasn’t sure if you felt comfortable with me telling everyone. if you want me to tell them, i’ll happily do it. you’re so good, how could i ever be embarrassed of you?” his eyes soften.

“do you mean it?” he asks, and you nod. 

“do i not show it enough? how much i love you, i mean.” he furiously shakes his head no, but you know it’s a lie. beomgyu himself will admit that he needs more validation than most people, and it’s going to take him a while to ever get over it because of his own issues. that doesn’t mean you can’t try to help him, though, so you brush his cheek with your hands before wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in for a kiss. 

“does this make you feel better?” you ask after you pull away, but he still looks somewhat depressed, so you pull him in again before pressing your lips against his. this time, you swipe your tongue on his pout, which makes him gasp. you tease your tongue against his and electricity thrums between you two when you do it. he reciprocates your enthusiasm immediately, and before long, you’re both sucking and teasing each other until you’re out of breath.

you pull away again and rest your forehead against his. 

“better?” you question.

“a little,” he says. “m-maybe a little more?” you grin at his coquettishness, and you go in for another kiss. your tongues tangle, but you don’t stop there. your mouth travels, peppering kisses down his jaw to his sensitive neck. he shivers at the contact when you swipe your tongue over his unmarred skin before lightly sucking. he lets out a broken moan when you do it, and it reverberates throughout your entire body and straight to your core. 

“better?” you ask again.

“m-more,” he pants. 

“anything you want, baby,” you tease before your lips hungrily capture his. one of your hands snakes its way up his shirt, and he gasps when you roll his hardened nipple between your fingers. beomgyu is more sensitive than most people, as is the nature of his model, so every little touch drives him crazy. 

you seem to have noticed this, so when your other hand palms his hardened length through his sweatpants and he almost screams, you have to bite back a giggle. 

“d-don’t tease,” he begs, and you’d do anything for beomgyu, really, but not this time.

you palm him even more harshly and his breath catches in his throat. 

“more?” you ask, and he fervently nods. you oblige, sliding your hand under his waistband and teasing the sensitive skin around his length. your fingers brush against it every so often, and he involuntarily bucks every time you do. 

“c-can i touch you?” he practically implores.

“of course, my love,” you tell him as you remove your devious hands and pull your top off before unclipping your bra. 

his mouth waters when he sees you, and you can see him gulp almost comically as his big hands meet your breasts. he copies your movement from earlier, rolling your sensitive buds between his very clearly experienced fingers. you let out a contented sigh at the action, but you won’t let this be all about you, so your hand sneaks it way back down his pants. this time, you grab his girthy cock and give it a harsh tug. his actions stutter, and you smirk devilishly at how fucked out he is when the fun part hasn’t even begun. 

you pull at his waistband, and he eagerly tugs his pants and boxers off as soon you do it. he even goes as far as to tear his t-shirt off over his head before he pulls your half-naked body flush against his, falling onto the bed as he desperately kisses you for everything that you’re worth. eventually, he situates himself on top of you, rutting his thick, long cock onto your still clothed thigh. you didn’t really get a chance to get a good look at him before, but you’re able to look down at him now, and you realize his dick is gorgeous. just like every other part of him. it stands tall, blushing profusely at the tip and practically weeping precum. it’s a bit hooked, too, no doubt to elicit the most pleasure out of his clients. your pussy is drenched just thinking about how it’ll feel when it’s inside of you.

he almost rips your bottoms off of you and his mouth waters even more at the sight of your pussy, all slick and glistening in anticipation for what’s to come. 

“so gorgeous,” he whispers as he prepares to lay himself between your legs, but you hook them around his waist before he can do so. tonight will be all about him, you’ve decided, so you tug him closer and put one of his pretty nipples in your mouth, swirling your tongue on it and occasionally nipping at the sensitive skin. your other hand continues to tweak the other one before you alternate between the two, causing him to let out a low, guttural groan. 

eventually, he goes in for another kiss, all tongue and teeth and saliva, and you take one of your hands and harshly clench around the base of his throbbing cock. 

“is this what you needed, beoms?” you tease, and he nods pathetically as you tug again, harder this time, and let your hands stroke all the way up to his reddened tip. your thumb glides over his slit, and he’s seeing stars. 

“i don’t know why you’re so jealous of someone else, my love. you’re so perfect,” you praise, and his ears get even redder, somehow, in spite of the situation you’re both in.

“i — nghh — i don’t like when you’re with him,” he pants, in spite of everything you're doing to him. “only want you with me.”

“oh, baby, you have me,” you coo. “always.” and with that, you begin to feverishly jerk him off with one hand while the other returns to his nipple. his hips buck with every movement, and his eyes are screwed shut. you can tell he’s about to come before you completely take your hands off of him. 

“n-no! w-why?” he asks with a crack in his voice, watery eyes shooting open at the sudden action.

“don’t you wanna come in my pussy, instead? it’s warmer and wetter than my hand,” you ask with faux innocence with a tilt of your head, and his previously aggrieved demeanor morphs back into pure lust. 

“that’s what i thought,” you giggle as you grab his length and rub it against your slickness. he groans at the feeling, but you don’t immediately take him in, opting to instead roll your hips up, just barely letting his flared head catch against your entrance. 

“baby, please,” he whines, and with a smirk, you finally wrap your legs around his waist and line him up with your entrance. you just barely take the tip in, easing it into your pussy, before you force him out again. he gasps raggedly at how tight you are, and he’s wound up so much, he feels like he’s on the brink of exploding. he’s about to take matters into his own hands before you guide him back inside of you, and he feels your walls struggling to accommodate him. 

“s-so tight! h-how are you so tight?” he hisses, eyes reddened and face strained, but you’re far too busy with the euphoric feeling of him finally inside of you to reply. he eases in inch after throbbing inch, and it is a snug fit, indeed. he almost wonders if he’ll even fit, but though the stretch burns you, the pleasure is too great to ignore. finally, your walls slightly relax, and he’s able to completely sheath himself in you. you both moan as his tip pulsates against your cervix, and he considerately gives you time to adjust, walls contracting wildly around him, before he attempts to pull out and really begin. 

“stop,” you command before he can do so, and his eyes fill with worry at your words. 

“w-what’s wrong?” he stutters. 

“oh, nothing,” you say between pants. “i just want to see how long you can last.” 

“w-what do you —”

and you interrupt him with a kiss. he ravenously reciprocates it, and he can’t help but unconsciously thrust his hips, tapping deliciously on the deepest parts of you, but you prevent him from ever fully pulling out. you tangle one of your hands through his hair and grip it — not hard enough to hurt, but enough to make him groan into your mouth. 

“c-can i move?” he pleads, but you shake your head no. 

“why?” he whimpers, but you just smirk as you kiss him again and bite his bottom lip. 

he doesn’t know how long you two stay like that, but it’s far too long for his liking. he feels his dick swell, and you still refuse to let him move, but you teasingly scrape your fingers against his balls and it’s all he can do not to come. 

“p-please let me move, it hurts,” he cries, tears now flowing from his eyes. for once, sex is all about beomgyu and what feels good to him. he could cry just from the sentiment alone, but his current tears are the direct result of how you’re teasing him.

“and where does it hurt, baby? use your words, i know you can.” 

“h-hurts, my c-cock hurts,” he sputters out. 

“and would pounding my pussy make you feel better?” you goad, and he whines even louder at the imagery. 

“y-yes,” he sobs, and you smile as you say your next words.

“such a good boy. you can move.” and that’s all it takes, really, before he’s pulling out despite your cunt’s attempts to suck him back in, and ramming himself back inside of you again and again.

the curve of his cock hits places previously untouched, and your walls spasm around him at the sensation.

“does it feel good, beoms?” 

“s-so good,” he mumbles as drool pools off of his tongue and out of his mouth, eyes rolling to the back of his head. “so warm and t-tight.” you clench against your will at his filthy words, and it makes a strangled cry leave his throat. 

“pussy so good, baby. your pussy is the b-best,” he babbles, and your lips meet his again before your mouth travels down, sucking a blooming hickey onto his neck. he trembles at the pain that comes with the pleasure, but somehow, he still has the presence of mind to roll his skilled fingers against your clit. just a few touches, and you already feel your orgasm approaching. he can feel every spasm of yours, and it makes his dick twitch inside of you as he wildly fucks you open. 

he’s drilling into you so hard, you have to dig your fingernails into the skin of his back to keep yourself grounded. with each thrust, you feel more and more like you’re about to burst. 

“gonna come!” you whine. 

“do it, baby. c-come all over my cock,” he pleads.

“come inside? want it so bad,” you mewl.

“of course, my angel. a-anything for you,” he tells you as he tenderly brushes your hair out of your sweaty face, and he hammers himself into you at an inhuman pace as you feel the pressure in you crescendo into a searing hot orgasm. you clench even tighter around him while you come, gripping him so forcefully he can barely pull out, so his thrusts become sloppy and uncoordinated before he rams himself into you one last time and paints your inner walls with his cum.

you two stay like that for a while, just panting and basking in the feeling of closeness you feel. he presses a kiss on your forehead as he relaxes his arms and lays on top of you. you giggle at the intimacy and he finds himself sharing your laughter, your joy. 

“you’re so beautiful,” he says between breaths, nuzzling his face into your neck and sighing. “i love you.”

“i love you, too, beoms,” you tell him, and you do love him. unconditionally.

notes pt. 3: :,) :,) :,)))))) i'm very sorry if this was disappointing but i hope it was worth it! i would love to hear your thoughts or answer any questions you may have about this fic/universe. feedback is needed to a disgusting degree bc i need validation to survive #sorry

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