#no wattpad fic can come close to this

[pegging-satan]

Man when you’re best friends with someone but y’all are so close that their parents and grandparents think y’all are fucking and will definitely be getting married so their GRANDMA CALLS YOU TO HER ROOM TO GIVE YOU HER BLESSINGS?!????

[sabbathbloodysabbeth]

The Myserious Art of Coping - part 2

Part 1 | Part 3 | Part 4

Ao3

Wattpad

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02. 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞

"σσн, єα¢н мσяηιηg ι gєт υρ ι ∂ιє α ℓιттℓє, ¢αη вαяєℓу ѕтαη∂ ση му ƒєєт (тαкє α ℓσσк αт уσυяѕєℓƒ) тαкє α ℓσσк ιη тнє мιяяσя αη∂ ¢яу (αη∂ ¢яу) ℓσя∂, ωнαт уσυ'яє ∂σιηg тσ мє? (уєαн, уєαн) ι нανє ѕρєηт αℓℓ му уєαяѕ ιη вєℓιєνιηg уσυ вυт ι נυѕт ¢αη'т gєт ησ яєℓιєƒ, ℓσя∂ ѕσмєвσ∂у (ѕσмєвσ∂у), σσн, ѕσмєвσ∂у (ѕσмєвσ∂у) ¢αη αηувσ∂у ƒιη∂ мє ѕσмєвσ∂у тσ ℓσνє?"

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-important notes about this chapter

• Cruising was a movie that came out in 1980 starring Al Pacino. His character, Steve Burns is a detective that has to catch a serial killer who is killing homosexuals. In the process, he has to go undercover in gay S&M bars to find the culprit while the police department's homophobia gets in the way. In the process, he discovers that he identifies with the culture a lot more than he expected and becomes distant with his girlfriend.

• Parting Glances is another LGBTQ movie that came out in '86. It's about a successful gay man who has to choose between two lovers. One is currently his boyfriend and the other who is suffering from HIV.

• In this chapter I heavily implied an Autistic Eddie. Everything I wrote is about some of my experiences even though I'm not diagnosed. I also did some research and read some comments to help me along the way.

• As someone who has Anxiety Tics, I also implied that with Eddie so keep in mind that the clicking he does with his tongue at random isn't a random thing I brought into it. It's something that I personally believe his character has

The black curtains that were put up to shield the sun from the boys' room weren't putting much effort into doing their job this morning. The sun had started to rise thirty minutes prior and was now higher up in the sky above the tree lines and at the perfect angle to shine in Eddie's small room. The beams were starting to take more room on the pillow next to Eddie as each minute passed, taking as much space as it could before falling on the back of his head. The dreaming boy was very unaware of the imposter in his room, he enjoyed his room being very dark and shaded so that when it was a really hot day his room would be the coolest one in the house.

Mumbling in his sleep Eddie moves his right hand to scratch his scalp before letting it fall back on the side of the bed. Nothing coming out of his mouth was coherent, just random words that didn't mean anything. His other arm that wasn't falling off the side of the bed was currently underneath him in a very awkward position. If he had been awake it would have been a very uncomfortable position for him. Normally he sleeps on his stomach and sprawled out like a starfish most nights. But with his reoccurring nightmares, he moves a lot more in his sleep.

Everything was silent and for once very peaceful in his room. Normally it was chaos as he ran around his room looking for something he lost or loud music blaring as he bobbed his head to the rhythm throwing his limbs around awkwardly. Though the peace doesn't last much longer as his voice gets a little louder and his free arm flies up in the air landing on the sunny pillow. In the process of him moving from his side to laying on his back, his breathing started to pick up. His body jerked as if he was trying to get away from something. He moves his head to the left a little and now the bright glare coming from his window is flashing into his eyes.

Making a ton of noises as his cramped arm moves to cover his eyes he begins to whine as he slowly starts to wake up. The feeling of his blanket wrapped around him making him feel like he was being suffocated. This was what was starting to set him off into a sensory overload. The feeling of the item scratching against his skin, the birds chirping outside and the sun blinding him the second he tries to open his eyes were all overwhelming him. The combination was pissing him off a little as he begins to grind his teeth out of irritation. After a second of laying there he quickly kicks the blanket off of him and he's moving with sunken eyes to try and cover his window again. Fighting with the curtains before making a relieved noise when the sun wasn't bothering him anymore.

Stretching a bit hearing the loud pops of his back he begins to wince as he tries to shake his limbs back awake, making even more noises of complaint over his dead arm. Making a mental note to try and not to sleep on it like he had again. Which would be very difficult as he could only fall asleep on his stomach with one of his records playing in the background. Running a hand through his hair he winces at the knots and makes a face at how greasy it feels. Sure it could easily be played off as a part of his aesthetic but he felt too disgusting to be able to go through with that.

As he calms his senses down, he looks over at his clock to see that it was only eight am. Raising his eyebrows, he was very much surprised. Normally he would sleep until three in the afternoon. With no longer going to school he found that it was easier to just forget how time and days worked. Stretching his body a little more it also clicks in his head that he feels somewhat motivated today. Maybe even leave the house as he was becoming bored with staying cooped up in the place.

Standing up his socks meet the carpet and he rubs his stomach underneath his shirt feeling the sweat stains and smelling them. Gagging a little at how disgusting he felt he worked his way to the bathroom where he strips as fast as he can. Looking in the small mirror he tilts his head as he moves his eyes up and down his body just taking himself in. He felt like one of those cocky douche-bags when he did this. The only reason he did most days was to ground himself. Knowing that he was real and not a part of some messed-up dream.

His hands move to his chest first where he traces over the tattoo of the head on the left side. Smiling proudly as it was one of his favorite drawings he's ever done. He continues to move his hands down feeling his rib cage reminding himself that he was very real. He was indeed flesh and bones. His hands move over the tendered wounds that he thought he was going to hate but ended up loving. Though they were still sore so he wasn't surprised at how he winced and grunted a little in pain. His hands move down to his stomach. Something he enjoyed a lot about himself. That and his thighs, using both body parts as a drum set whenever he was listening to music. His rough fingers then move to his v line as he traces that for a second as he begins to breathe in and out for a few moments grounding himself the best he can. He also did this to help calm himself from his senses.

He could feel his hair falling lightly on his back the grease was bugging him but he ignores it just for now as he moves his fingers back up to his neck. Not opening his eyes as he takes his necklace off and carefully sets it down on the counter. Opening his eyes he now moves to his face where he stares into his red-rimmed eyes. They were watery and glossy an obvious sign that he just woke up. Licking his lips a little he moves away from the mirror and moves into the shower. Turning it on and adjusting it so the temp was where he wanted it. Often he would get in the shower and fall into the comfortable warmth for it to only then go really cold and send him into another sensory overload. He didn't want that this morning.

When he's finally standing under the water he feels so much better. His hair sticks to his forehead and back and he hums to himself as he starts to sing without much thought. The acoustics were amazing in here so why wouldn't he take advantage of that. The tune was playing in the back of his head and the song was already stuck in his head. He most likely would be singing it for days after this.

"Come mothers and fathers Throughout the land, And don't criticize what you can't understand, your sons and your daughters are beyond your command, your old road is rapidly agin', Please get out of the new one if you can't lend your hand, For the times they are a-changin'." his voice rasps out a little as his hands scratch his scalp cleaning himself the rest of the way before stepping out of the shower still humming the tune. Moving and grabbing his toothbrush and started to brush his teeth. Though he's quick to start gagging not enjoying the flavor but he powers through it as his mouth was currently overwhelming him. Wiping his mouth he huffs as he takes a towel wrapping it around his waist before he moves out of the bathroom heading to his bedroom. Though before he can make it he hears a knock on his door.

Groaning and making even more noise he moves to the door nearly naked. Only holding his towel up with one hand as he opens the door not caring. Unsure who the hell was at his door right now. Slightly paranoid that it was some asshole who wanted to kick his ass.

Though when his eyes finally adjust to the sun he sees that it's only Jonathan and Argyle. Both of them looking way to sober. "Like dude, if we don't buy some weed from you right now I'm going to like. Lose my marbles." Argyle says talking with his head and Jonathan turns to look at him with a what the hell look. It seemed like the two of them didn't want to come off desperate but they were.

"Yeah, yeah. You caught me with my pants down I'm afraid. The only stuff I have at the moment is my own personal stash." he hums before he pauses wagging his finger a grin forming on his lips. "Actually boys, I can do you better," he says excitedly and Argyle looks confused and Jonathan's already starting to talk.

"I'm sorry we don't do anything harder than weed man," Jonathan speaks as he pokes his head inside the trailer a bit as he watches Eddie moving to his room. Surprisingly feeling more energetic than he had been lately.

"That's not what I meant," Eddie says as he quickly changes into clothes not bothering with his boxers. "I meant something else." He returns out in less than a minute holding his bag of weed. Argyle's eyes light up as he moves into the trailer without much thought. Eddie didn't mind as he moves his hand up stopping the other from just grabbing it.

"There's just a few things. I'll give this to you for free if you can drive up to my supplier and get some more weed off from him for me." Eddie says already doing what he normally did when he was in business. Argyles looks at Jonathan before shrugging.

"Okay man I can do that," he speaks slowly trying to grab it again but Eddies making soft tsking noises as he looks over at Byers with a serious look on his face.

"There is one more thing." He hums as he ignores how bad the carpet felt against his feet. Normally he would be throwing a fit over it but he didn't want to embarrass himself right now and not be taken seriously. "Byers you still taking photos of innocent girls without clothes on? Oh and almost forgot the last detail, without their permission. I'm sorry man but I'll happily sell to Argyle but you..." he shakes his head scrunching his nose up. "I don't like peeping toms."

Argyle is turning and looking at Jonathan with a look on his face that Eddie can't describe. Jonathan's face is going a little pale and even more pink as he stutters a little. All three of them go silent before Argyle shakes his head at Jonathan even more. "Not cool man. That's hella weird." He says as Eddie moves to cross his arms a little bit. The tension in the room was starting to build up as Eddie taps his fingers against his chin.

"Though if you prove that you aren't a creep anymore I'll consider selling to you. I mean you've gone through a life-changing experience so for all I know you've learned there's so much more to live for besides staring up skirts." Eddie says casually as that's Jonathan's last straw as he pushes himself out of the trailer. Moving to the van with a red face. Eddie was sure he had most likely made the other cry but truth be told he didn't care. He didn't have many rules when he sold but when it came to creeps he made sure not to sell to them.

••••

A couple of hours pass before he decides that playing the guitar was fucking boring after going for a few hours straight. His hands hurt and there were already some blisters forming on his fingertips. The plan isn't thought out all that much as he slides his shoes on and gets himself situated. Locking the door behind him and carrying the key on his necklace he works his way down the road to his van. The vehicle had taken a lot of damage and thankfully he was able to replace the windows and tires after Jason and his stupid groupies decided to destroy them in the name of Justice. Who knew Hawkins had their own personal Batman.

Eddie cringes stopping his negative thoughts when he remembers that Jason had fallen victim to Vecna himself. It explained why he had gone completely off his rocker so easily when Chrissy died. Though he snaps himself out of his thoughts as he moves to hop up on the driver's side before he's hearing his name being called from across the dirt road. "Eddie! Wait up!" He turns his head out the door squinting his eyes from the sun as he sees Max running towards him holding her skateboard. He freaks out a little as he hops out of the van quickly meeting her part way thinking something was wrong.

"What's wrong?" He asks sounding spooked. Looking around to make sure there wasn't anyone watching them or worst something chasing Max. His panicked expression seems to register to Max a few seconds too late as she tries to catch her breath.

"Oh nothing, I was just hoping you could give me a ride into town?" She asks looking up at him with an 'oopsie' smile. Eddies relaxing though his heart and body weren't. He felt the anxiety floating through his veins causing him to twitch and shake a little. Breathing in deeply he shakes his head holding his chest a little before he's moving back to his van and getting in the driver's side.

"So... is that a yes?" Max asks as she bites her lip hoping she didn't have to skateboard all the way into town. Eddie sighs dramatically as if it's the worst thing he could be doing with his free time.

"I suppose, where are you going anyway?" He asks. Not looking at her as he moves his body over to unlock the passenger side. Pulling the lock up and opening the slightly broken door for her. Watching to make sure that she got up there without getting hurt. The number of times he's hurt himself trying to get in the van was crazy. But she moves herself like she's done this countless times, maybe she has he doesn't know and now there she sits in the passenger seat like it's a throne. Moving to her right grabbing the door handle and closing the door behind her. The boy can't help but feel a little impressed that she got the door to close completely on the first try.

"Skate park." She answers as her hand moves to the radio already. Eddie doesn't mind though as he leans to his left grabbing his door and closes it. But like always it clicks back open and he groans as he opens it trying to shut it a few times before it finally closes all the way. He glances over seeing Max already going through all of his tapes. Her eyes skimmed between each one. The kid also looked very tired but he didn't want to bother her too much about it.

Turning his key in the ignition the van stalls for a second before it finally starts and they are both finally on their journey to the skate park. He buckles himself in almost forgetting and makes a comment to Max about it. Who groans in complaint. "Hey shithead, this van is pretty beat up. If a tire or something pops off and I accidentally swerved into a tree I don't want another murder case on my hands because you flew through the window and snapped your neck. I don't think I'll be so lucky this time around." He chuckles. Max looks at him like he is crazy and gives him a bit of a dirty look as she clicks on her seat belt.

Out of spite he presses the brake fast jerking her forward as she yelps dropping a few of his tapes. Grinning he glances over at her. "See. Told you." He says amused. The younger girl is already moving and hitting him in the arm as he takes a turn, taking a shortcut to the skate park.

"God I hate you." She huffs dramatically as he starts to laugh like a crazed man on the driver's side. Though she finally chooses a tape and pops it in, the familiar guitars start to play and Eddie glances over with a huger grin when he realizes that she not only chose Metallica but she knew the songs. Bopping her head for the next five minutes before the next track comes on and Eddie's tensing up a bit when he recognizes Master of Puppets. Each cord that played reminded him of his own concert down in the upside down.

"What's wrong?" Max asks catching on to the sudden mood shift. It was hard not to, Eddie was always goofy so when he went silent with no noise. Not even his fingers tapping the wheel, not humming a little, or even clicking his tongue something was definitely up. She didn't think it was the music but she wasn't sure what it was that made the other go strangely silent.

"Oh, it's nothing... it's just." Eddie pauses as he runs a hand through his hair as his hands begins to shake again making an involuntary clicking noise as his anxiety rose. "When me and Dustin were in the upside down together this was the song that I played to distract the bats from everyone. And- it's so stupid but it's making my scars sting just from the memory." He lets out an uncomfortable laugh as Max moves forward and presses skip on the song. Listening to it fast forward.

"It's okay Eddie. I cant listen to Kate Bush without going back to that horrible world either. That and I can't listen to Kill 'em all without crying still. That was Billy's favorite song before he died." Max explains as the next song starts to play lowly in the background. Now this was what Eddie needed. Breathing and calming down realizing the other wasn't going to give him the whole, "you're save and nothing is going to happen ever again so you don't have anything to worry about" speech. He looks over to see that she was having just a difficult time talking about her emotions like he was.

"Were you close with Billy?" He asks with a raised eyebrow noticing how the other seemed tense under the silence. He wasn't good with social cues but the other looked like she wanted to get something off her chest. Still paying attention to the road he also glances over at the other to make sure he read this correctly. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. You just seem like you need to get something off your chest, and like I'm horrible at reading people so I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable it wasn't my intention." He rambles out nervously tapping the wheel again as his leg starts to bounce.

Max looks over at him before snorting a little, "You are the strangest Metalhead I've ever met. And I've met a shit ton when I lived in California." She says amused. Eddie rolls his eyes amused not taking it to heart because it was true. He knew he wasn't the stereotypical have no feelings all I care about is Ozzy's vibes like typical metal heads did. He opens his mouth to retort back at her but Max is speaking again.

"But yeah? And no?" She answers. "Back in California, we were sort of close. Though he was still very reserved off on a lot of things and I'm not sure what was his Dad forcing him to be nice to me or what was actually him. Then he started high school and he changed completely. He started to see a lot more girls, started to work out more, and started to get in more fights. Then one day Neal walked in on him with a guy and totally freaked. Packed our shit up and we moved here back to Neal's hometown within a week." Max talks as she freezes as she looks at Eddie a little panicked.

"I shouldn't have said anything about the whole sleeping with a guy thing. That wasn't for me to talk about and oh god you could out Billy for all I know." She rambles out. It was now her turn to panic like the other had before. Eddie was actually in shock that the Billy Hargrove slept with guys too. Apart of him was in shock and the other side was disappointed because he totally could have had a chance to sleep with the other. Though realistically the other would've punched him in the face but he could dream, right?

"Yeah... not really your place to tell someone about. Though secrets safe with me. God knows you've seen a few guys come into my trailer from time to time." He says nonchalantly. Max's eyes grow wide for a second before she decides to not make a big deal out of it. Eddie was grateful, but he knew that him saying something, even though he wasn't sure where she stood, would ease her nerves about outing Billy. The second that came out she was a target for bullying.

"Well anyway, we moved here and he was okay for a bit. Sleeping with a bunch of girls, working out, and joining the basketball team but then something changed. He saw Steve at some stupid party and he started to go a little weird again. Then after the fight with Steve in the trailer, he went even weirder. He slept around with girls a lot more, worked out more, worked on his car more, went to more parties and I'm pretty sure he had a date with Nancy Wheelers Mom." Max rambles out her nose scrunching up a bit as Eddie's eyebrows skyrocket up his forehead. Though he tries not to come off as judgmental.

"He hurt Steve really bad and a lot of other people. And like, I'm not even sure what was actually him or what was the image he created for himself for his dad. Like he was friends with a lot of people in California but the second he saw me become friends with Lucas he started to act racist you know? I don't know if he was actually or if he was acting like that to get me to stop hanging out with Lucas so Neal didn't find out. Neal would've freaked and beaten the shit out of Billy if he had." Max rambles out as she rubs her arms a little self-conscious as Eddie parks in a spot near the skatepark. Seeing kids going down ramps and doing kickflips.

"And part of me wished he would die you know? He was the hugest dick ever and I never thought he actually would. We weren't close or anything but we both had to deal with Neal and that sort of made us teammates? Like I remember one time he accidentally broke a dish trying to grab something off the top shelf and Neal freaked. And I quickly swept it up and said I accidentally did it. At that time Neal wouldn't touch me because of my Mom. Then the next week I accidentally burnt dinner and Neal started to freak out on me and Billy was there and took the blame for me. It sort of made me think we were siblings on a certain level you know?" Max rambles out as Eddie nods his head just listening.

The van goes silent and the kid looks as if she just got rid of the worse weight she's ever held in her life. Eddie smiles softly as he moves to pat her shoulder. "It's not your fault you know. Or Billy's. It's Neal's. You and Billy just had different coping methods you know? But that also doesn't excuse the racism or dickhead remarks he made. He made his choice and now he has to go along with the consequences." Eddie speaks softly and Max turns to look at him. She smiles a little as she looked a lot calmer.

"Thank you, Eddie. For the ride and well the talk. Steve tries but his anger for Billy normally takes over." She admits as Eddie shrugs as he takes one of the toothpicks from his cup holder and puts it in his mouth chewing on it a little.

"It's no problem. Have fun, if you need a ride back I'm going to most likely be grocery shopping and going to family video to harass Harrington and Buckley." He says amused. The girl nods her head and smiles as she hops out of the van waving at him before running to the skate park. Pausing as she turns seeing he was still watching her and she laughs a little flipping him off, getting the same hand gesture in return.

••••

The open sign was in the window as Eddie walks into the small store. He felt stares at him the second he arrived in town but he attempts to at least ignore them. Walking into the movie rental place he looks around and his eyes brows scrunch up in confusion when he sees that no one was there. Looking around for a few more seconds before shrugging and going to look at each VHS that was available. Running a hand through his hair as he finds a movie that catches his attention. Picking the tape up with Al Pacino he decides that 'Cruising' it is. He just hopes he doesn't get judged for putting it on the counter to rent. Though before he moves to the counter he catches Tim Curry's face and groans as he decides he mind as well. Go big or go home as he holds not only 'Cruising' but 'The Rocky Horror Show' in his hand moving to the front counter setting them down.

Seeing the bell he decides to continuously press it, his other hand moving to hold up his head as he waits very impatiently. He hears loud complaints from the back room and he grins when he recognizes the voices. "Hold your horses!" Steve's yelling as he walks out of the back room with a little bit of jelly on the side of his mouth. Robin is right behind him as Eddie shakes his head still not stopping. Personally wanting to annoy the two but also the dinging noise was giving him some enjoyment.

The two finally look at him as they move into their small little cut-offed area. Steve looks surprised the other was there but was holding a smile anyway. Robin was equally shocked but it quickly disappears when she moves taking the bell from the boy, who makes a noise of complaint immediately. "You're like a five-year-old - oh my god." Robin starts to tease him before the movies that were in front of her catch her attention. Eddie's going pale as he quickly snatched them and decides he changed his mind. He's just going to put them on the shelf with a pink face. Do the walk of shame.

Steve is oblivious as he looks confused not aware of the two movies. Though he catches the title and asks, "wait aren't those the two movies we almost had to take off the shelves because of what's her name?" He asks confused as he looks at Robin who's glaring at him to shut up but nodding her head. He catches the hint quickly zipping his lips still very unaware about what was going on and why Eddie was getting shy and flustered all of a sudden. He didn't even know what the movies were about.

Robins moving around the counter as she moves to grab another movie as she holds up the cover for 'Parting Glances.' moving in front of Eddie forcing him to stop in his tracks. "This is personally another movie I liked." She hums as she sets it on the tapes the boy was holding. Winking as she moves around the counter again as she moves to the computer already pulling up Eddie's account. "Ok hand them over." She hums as the boy does reluctantly. Steve looks at them before either of the two can stop him.

"Oh! Isn't this the movie you forced me to watch Robin?" He asks still not caught up with the situation that was happening in front of him. Robin makes a show of slapping her forehead.

"Yeah, you dingus. Now, will you go wipe the jelly off your face before I smack it off?" She says in a playful tone and the boy groans after looking at his reflection moving to the back room. Eddie's honestly going to have a heart attack. He moves a hand over his chest just to make sure if it did beat out of his chest he would catch it. Then the realization starts to hit him as he moves closer to the girl with a confused expression.

"Steve Harrington actually watched a gay movie and liked it?" He asks confused and very surprised. Every time he thought he knew something about the other, something would happen and everything would flip upside down and he's lost again.

Robin looks at him with a little bit of amusement. "Yeah, he did. Though we both prefer fast times or any David Bowie movie." She hums as Eddie catches onto her hints. He nods his head as he doesn't say anything else both of them letting the conversation die. What else were they both supposed to do? Though before he's able to say anything else he hears a loud crash from outside. Jumping a little he turns his head to see a group of people surrounding his van. Taking baseball bats to it and someone's even taking spray paint, writing something not nice onto it. His eyes go wide when he realizes that if they see him he was most likely free game.

He's not the only one to realize this, Robin does to. The other watches all of this too for a few seconds longer before she's quickly tugging the other to the back room. He's stumbling as he takes the movies in his hands after she forced them there. Poor Steve is sitting at the small table in the corner finishing his sandwich and looking very startled about Eddie being back there. Just looking at the Metalhead he could see he was close to some form of a panic attack.

"Steve you need to get Eddie out of here while I call the police. The whole town is destroying his van as we speak and I don't know how many of them have seen him come in here." She rambles out. Steve goes a little pale before he's dropping his sandwich and quickly moving to the back door. Eddie's like a rag doll moving from Robins's hand to Steve's who's now dragging him in the back parking lot shoving him in the back of his car. All of this is starting to become a blur for him as he just does whatever is asked of him.

"Make sure not to poke your head up above the window." He says quickly as Eddie nods his head and curls up into a ball in the backseat breathing heavily trying to calm himself down. He was very overwhelmed and close to a breakdown. Steve's in the driver's seat and they are moving away from the store and away from the public. He's swallowing down fear as he lets Steve take him somewhere safe. He's having horrible flashbacks to when he was on the run and he's not enjoying them one bit. Though he's so completely unaware of his surroundings and lost in his head he doesn't even realize that Steve's now in the back with him forcing his yellow sweater over his head to cover his clothing.

Hopefully, no one would think it was him. It wasn't much of disguise, but hopefully it would work in their favor. Everyone wouldn't be expecting Eddie Munson to be wearing a bright yellow sweater. He then moves to grab one of his old baseball caps and forces it onto the others head. After taking the other in one more time he pulls the other out of his car and into his house. Everything was happening so fast that Eddie wasn't really able to process everything that was happening. All he knew was that he was being shoved down onto a couch with a equally freaked out Steve who's moving back to his door to lock it.

[ham1lton]

omg i had a similar idea about how yn’s birthday would be what exposed lewisyn but i didn’t send it bc i didn’t think you’d like it 🫣🫣🫣 i was just thinking that he’d get her something REALLY nice and everyone’s like 🤨🤔 whose boss would get them this….(as a kpop girlie my headcanon was that he flies her to coachella to see blackpink vip LMAO but honestly your choice)

author’s note: LEWISYN LEWISYN *we all chant in unison*. this is a part of the dream girl universe but can be read as a stand alone! also i’m posting the oscaryn fic tomorrow! so keep an eye out for that :D

liked by bestie1, alexandrasaintmleux and 728,928 others.

yourusername: when your boss pays for an all inclusive holiday for you and your girls for your birthday, but you miss his dog so you force him to send you updates every day 😔

view all 47,982 comments

user1: happy bday girl but this isn’t normal 😭

-> user2: bye she’s so real for this because if i could get exclusive lewis hamilton selfies I WOULD 😭

user3: you posted a darry ring box on your story? who bought it for you?

-> yourusername: lewis! :)

-> user4: hey babe… that’s literally INSANE

-> user5: idgi? what’s a darry ring? why is it insane? it’s just jewellery 🤷🏾‍♀️

-> user4: you can only buy ONE darry ring per LIFETIME. they make you submit your id so you can never buy another. it’s meant to be for your soulmate 😭 and lewis bought one for his ASSISTANT 😭

-> user5: nah, they GOTTA be fucking.

-> user4: worse. they’re in love.

carmenmmundt: HAPPY BIRTHDAY SWEET GIRL ♥️

-> yourusername: i can’t even believe it but thank you babe!!! mwah!! we’ll go out as soon as i come back!!! :D

-> user6: my fav wags :(( gonna miss yn when lewis goes to ferrari :((

bestie1: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY BESTIE!!! SEXIEST GIRL EVER!!!!!!11!!!111

*liked by yourusername.*

user19: people talking about the darry ring like what about the HOLIDAY TO HER FAVOURITE PLACE??? like that is literally CRAZY???

-> user19: … you hiring? lewishamilton 👀

-> user21: fuck that, do you have an opening in your relationship? lewishamilton yourusername? 👀 bitch scooch over!! i want y’all 🤷🏻‍♀️

user20: what f1 driver wants to have a weird codependent relationship with a romantic subtext with me?

-> user21: i didn’t realise how much of a wattpad ass trope lewisyn is 😭 rich older famous hot boss and younger funny pretty employee who does whatever she wants while the boss is just fondly endeared.

-> user22: THAT SHOULD BE ME!!!!! 😔

-> user20: we can still do it oscarpiastri

-> oscarpiastri: no thank you! 🙂‍↔️

user28: yourusername are you and lewis dating be honest?

-> yourusername: NO 😭 i am definitely still single. lewis and i are just close friends that’s it!

-> user29: he said ‘happy birthday to my favourite girl, i want to spend all the rest of them with you’ in his post to you…. THATS A BOYFRIEND ASS QUOTE DONT LIE 😭

-> yourusername: that’s really normal??? like i’m sorry that you don’t have a decent relationship with your boss? 😭

user10: this whole bday thing is so funny cause why is yn trying to pass this as a normal employee and employer relationship 😭

-> user11: like you don’t see charles taking his assistant on romantic candlelit dinners do you 😭

-> user12: maybe if he does that, he’ll win a wdc. lewis does it, and he won eight, to ME!

user26: her insta stories are packed with all the gifts he bought her omg. someone tallied it all up and why did it amount to 1.7 million?!????

-> user27: IM SO JEALOUS

alexandrasaintmleux: next time brunch is on me ! 🥰 happy birthday honey 💕

-> yourusername: ily alex :(

-> user7: 1644 got the baddest bitches i know that’s right!

user13: lewisyn be normal challenge: FAILED!

-> user14: lewisyn be hopelessly in love with each other and co-parent lewis’ dog together challenge: COMPLETE!

user15: everyone talking about how weird it is that lewis spoils yn for her bday but why can’t we NORMALISE this?????? i want MY lazy ass boss to see shit like this and feel so ashamed that he books me on a cruise or some shit 😭

user17: LEWISYN CONFIRMED !!! WE CHEERED !!

-> user18: did you see his birthday post to her? babe it’s BEEN confirmed 😭

user24: im new to this. is yn lewis’ wag?

-> user25: no! she’s his assistant.

-> user24: don’t believe it. sorry.

user16: to everyone thinking this is weird, lewis’ team are like family to him. yn has been with him for almost a decade. like ofc he’s gonna reward loyalty? especially when she’s gotten offers from other celebs and brands. she could have pivoted to being an influencer but she likes working for lewis and it’s clearly mutual?

*liked by yourusername.*

landonorris: did you get my flowers?

-> yourusername: no?? :(

-> lewishamilton: roscoe ate them. my bad.

-> user8: MESSY ASS 😭 that dog did not eat those damn flowers.

-> user9: roscoe at home rn like … what he say fuck me for 🐶

-> yourusername: dw lando!! we’ll still have our weekly movie night when i come back!!

-> landonorris: :D

— dream girl taglist: @flowergirl1134 @laur20a23 @greantii @rafebun @sumlovesjude @papayadays

— all works taglist: @luvsforme @yelenasloverrrrr @donttouchthegnote @chelle1306 @bloodyymaryyy @aliciaablueprint @lennnooshh @km-23mr @stinkyjax @f1kenzzz @ctrlyomomma @theblueblub @lavisenri @marshmummy @23victoria @ourlifeforchaos @namgification @tallrock35 @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @ariellovelynn @shhhchriss @lifeless-firefly @xylinasdiary @evie-119 @itseightbeats @tsireyasgf @landososcar @yongi-lee @maxlarens @velentine @m1892 (if you were on more than one of the taglists, i’ve only tagged you once! :) also if you’re on the solo lewis taglist, i’ll tag you in the mentions as tumblr limits mentions at 50 per post!! :( and if you’d like to join either taglist, fill out this form! make sure you read the explanatory box, fill the form out correctly and allow your account to be tagged or i can’t tag you!)

[ihavethedreamies]

Second Choice | San

Choi San - ATEEZ

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~11.3k O_o

Pairing: San x AFAB!Reader

Genre: Reader-Insert, Actual Plot, Fluff, Angst, Smut, Friends-to-Lovers, One-Sided Love, Sharing a Bed, Comfort

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Pet Names (Precious, Sweetheart, Love, Pretty/Sweet Girl, etc.), Nightmares/Bad Dreams, Tears and Crying, Swearing, Unrequited Love, Kind of a Love Triangle, Kissing, Dirty Talk, Oral (M! & F! Receiving), Deepthroating, Face-Fucking, Fingering, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation (Just a tad),  Dacryphilia (Kind of), Creampie Kink (Not really Breeding so…), Marking/Hickeys/Scratches, Wall Sex, Window Sex, Mirror Sex, Big Dick! San, Unprotected Sex (Use a condom! Reader is on the pill), Multiple Rounds

Author's Note: Holy Fuck, look at what I did 🫢. This is…long, as you can see. There is about equal parts fluff and angst and possibly even more smut. Had this brewing in my head for a few days after I went down a San rabbit hole. I went through a roller coaster ride of emotions writing this, so good luck reading it, my dudes.

Wooyoung is not in this, but he is mentioned and is somewhat of a love rival? Also Reader has a dog in this, so sorry if you don't like dogs or something…

PS. The middle pic of the banner is Mark and Renjun 🤪

I barely proofread this and none of my stories are Beta-ed so hopefully its not too messy...

I am cross-posting this on Archive and Wattpad. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other sites. Happy reading!

Glancing at the clock, tick-tick-ticking away, you sighed. 2:38 am. It was much, much too early (or too late) to be awake, but you knew there was no way you could fall asleep. The first nightmare wasn't nearly as bad, so you were willing to go back to sleep, but when it happened again, you just couldn’t. So, you were sitting on the couch, some random rerun playing on the TV. You had to keep the volume low, not wanting to wake San up. He was sleeping with the door open so his cat could come and go. Byeol was sleeping in the armchair and you were jealous that he could do so in peace. San was staying in Wooyoung's room while he was gone, and since your sister had somewhere to be that weekend as well, you were home alone. It freaked you out to be alone in such a big place, never really having lived on your own. San offered to stay with you and you were a bit reluctant to agree but did so. It wasn't that you weren't close with San, you were, since Wooyoung was your roommate, it was just odd without Wooyoung there too. Turning around to glance behind the couch, your dog was snoring away in her bed, laying on her back, legs folded down over her chest. She was so sweet, but she was a husky and therefore made the bed way too hot for her to lay with you. Every so often you would have really bad nightmares and would normally slip in next to your older sister and be able to sleep in peace. However, she wasn't there, so you had to sit on the couch and watch the TV, at an hour where nothing good was on.

"Why are you up?" San's voice startled you, and you spun around again to look at where he was coming from behind you. Your dog's soft snores stopped, but she didn't even roll over from her spot, falling back to sleep easily.

"Nightmare." You shrugged, turning back around and he shuffled sleepily around the couch to sit next to you.

"Couldn't go back to sleep?" His eyes were almost closed and his hair was mussed up. He had worn a pair of thin black pants with a thin sweater to sleep. The collar was very low, and paired with his wide shoulders, you could see most of his toned chest. By that point, you were used to it, but that didn't mean you weren't tempted to ogle him.

"No. I…Uh, normally crawl into bed with (S/N), but…" You shrugged again, pulling your fluffy robe back up to cover your shoulder, only in a thin tank top underneath. Picking at a stray string on your own thin pajama pants, you felt antsy under his gaze.

"What about Cookie?”

"She's too warm…" You both sat in silence for a good minute or two and you tried to just watch the TV. It seemed he was thinking.

"Um, I'm going to use the bathroom…Do you…Do you want to sleep in my- Wooyoung's bed with me?"

"No! I…I mean…" You cleared your throat.

"I…That's fine, but would you mind…using my bed?" You could NOT sleep in Wooyoung's bed, especially with San. You were willing to try anything at that point, feeling exhausted, and you really needed sleep. Last time you tried to tailor a dress while tired, you poked your fingers at least seven times.

"Yeah, be right back." He flashed a sleepy smile, shuffling toward the bathroom, the sweater crooked, revealing part of his shoulder. Licking your lips, your mouth dry, nervous, you shut the TV off, but hesitated to get up. When he came back out, you finally forced yourself up and you led him toward your bedroom. Taking a deep breath, you opened the door, your light strip around the room glowing a gentle deep pink.

"You need that off?" you asked him, pointing at the lights.

"No." He moved toward your bed, turning back to look at you, waiting. Swallowing hard, you undid the robe, acting like you were naked underneath. After it fell, you dashed to get under the covers, embarrassed about your thin top and your lack of bra. Gently, he got on the other side and you laid down stiffly, flinching when he pulled the blanket over himself, then higher up on you. Your face heated and since you had no makeup on, you were sure he could see you get red. Maybe not in the low light…

"Do you want me to hold your hand?" San's voice was very soft and you felt like crying. You weren't for sure if you were just that flustered or embarrassed, or what. Just replying with a nod, you turned on your side, not really able to look at his face, but his hand was already up between your two pillows. Your hand shook a bit, reaching for him, and he gave you a warm smile, linking his fingers with yours. He wasn't the biggest of the friend group, but he was still much bigger than you, his hand nearly swallowing yours completely.

"I'm right here, you can go to sleep." He whispered and you let your eyes close, hoping he couldn't see the tears hanging on your lashes. It was still taking you a while to actually fall asleep, laying there with your eyes closed for nearly half an hour. At that point, you were more distracted with his hand holding yours than the thought of having another nightmare. San was always so soft and gentle with you, despite his harsh appearance. He was sweet and was always careful to make sure you weren't too uncomfortable. You knew, deep down, he probably liked you, but you just ignored the idea. It was like some weird love mismatch going on. Your sister was in love with her friend-with-benefits, Wooyoung liked your sister, you liked Wooyoung, and San liked you. You knew Wooyoung liked your sister, but he had no chance in hell. Your sister was enamored with Younghoon, and the only reason they weren't an actual couple is because she was in denial, afraid of commitment, and didn't like feeling feelings.

Still being mostly awake, you had to make sure and hold completely still when you barely felt his fingers brush a stray strand or two of hair off your forehead. You heard and felt him shuffle just a bit closer, not having to go far in your full-sized bed. Holding as still as you could, you tensed further when he lightly pressed a kiss to your forehead. You bit the inside of your lip to keep it from quivering. Only relaxing when he settled, you didn't open your eyes till you could tell he was asleep from the way his breathing changed. Blearily, you looked over his face, so peaceful and pretty. Despite falling asleep, his hand was still just as secure in yours. You wondered what time it was, and as you did, sleep slowly overcame you as well.

When you woke up in the morning, your bed was empty next to you and could hear Cookie eagerly inhaling her food.

"Slow down, you'll end up throwing up." You heard San scolding her and when you rolled over to get out of bed, the clock read 11:47.

"Shit!" You sat up quickly, yanking your tank top and pajama pants off, slipping on a bra, white t-shirt, and a maxi dress over. Your hair was messy in its braid, but once you took it out, your hair fell in nice soft waves. Your feet softly thumped on the hardwood floor as you jogged down the hall.

"Sorry I slept so late!" You called to him, he was resting against the kitchen counter, watching the husky rapidly crunch on her food.

"It's okay!" He assured and you dashed past the kitchen, toward your studio to start working. It was good you worked from home.

"I think it was because I fell asleep so late!" The only reason he heard you was because he had followed after you, plopping down in your rolling chair as you started getting pins and thread out.

"When do you have to go practice?" San was a dance instructor and it was extremely convenient that his studio was just across and down the street a bit from your apartment complex.

"Three." He got up, turning the chair around so he could sit in it backwards, backrest to his chest. You huffed, tucking hair behind your ear again, but it fell in your view again. Grumbling, you grabbed your glasses off the table, putting them on to rest on the end of your nose to get the right angle to focus on where you were doing a difficult stitch. Gladly you could hear his steps on the wood floor; you were able to prevent a flinch when his fingers found your hair. Kneeling behind where you were to get the right height, you forced yourself to continue the stitch, just very slowly as he braided your hair for you. Not having a normal hair tie, he grabbed a stray rubber band from your kit to tie the end.

"Thanks." You murmured, pretending to be focused to hide your reaction. You hoped your head was bowed enough he couldn't see your red cheeks.

"What do you want for lunch?" You tried to maintain some kind of casual normalcy. He hummed and you could hear the chair roll an inch when he sat back down. Him watching you didn't faze you before, but his gaze felt like fire on your back.

"Pizza?"

"Sure, if you get my phone, you can reorder what we got last time." You waved toward your device on the desk next to you.

"Code?"

"Same as the front door."

He typed in the number and you heard it click open and he tapped away on it. Glancing over at him, your eyes focused on where his partially unbuttoned shirt was tucked into his pants. You had hemmed that pair of jeans so he didn't have to pin them tighter anymore.

"Use the 3033 card?"

"Yes."

"Twenty-three minutes." He told you, placing the order then went and sat back down.

"How much?"

"Like eighteen."

"Can you get me the thread in slot L-2?" you asked, motioning behind you toward your thread storage. He rolled over and you heard shuffling, keeping your hand out so he could rest the spool in it. Expecting him to just hand it to you, he had gotten out of the chair and sat on the floor next to you.

"What are you doing?"

"Buttons in this fabric tend to get loose easily or fall off, so I'm having to fasten them differently." You deftly and quickly started your task and he marveled at how fast you did it. Tying the thread off, you stuck the needle in the pincushion you had on your wrist, grabbing a longer one again.

"You're really good at this." San looked at the smooth stitches you had done, even though they were by hand, not machine.

"Practice." You let a small smile grace your lips.

"Do you always do everything by hand?"

"Depends on what I am doing most of the time, but some clients want it completely hand sewn." You pulled a pin out, dropping it back into the little box and continuing. You fell back into rhythm even with his intense gaze watching what you were doing. His fingers messed with a scrap of fabric laying on the floor, then he picked it up, weaving random pins through it, trying to mimic what you had done.

"Could you teach me to sew?"

"Probably. It's not hard. Getting to this point is though."

"Did you teach Wooyoung?" Your hands froze at the question, heart thudding harder.

"N-No. Well, I tried, but he kept poking himself." He laughed.

"Sounds about right- ow!" Your eyes flicked to him, sticking the end of his finger in his mouth, putting the pin-riddled fabric down on the desk.

"Like that." You giggled and he huffed bashfully. He kept watching, getting up quickly when the doorbell rang so he could get the pizza. Finishing your stitch, you took the pin cushion off and made sure there wasn’t anything sharp on the floor, you laid your glasses down as well.

"Hot, hot!" He breathed hard through his mouth, trying to cool off the bite as you walked out. He wasn't expecting the sauce to still be hot, but the pizza place was very close. It only took so long since it was busy for lunch. You let him talk to you while you both ate, and you only partially listened, not understanding most of it anyway; some video game you hadn't played and had no knowledge of.

"I think I'm going to head to the studio now." San had helped you clean up and sat on the edge of the entryway to get his shoes on.

"Bye, (Y/N)!" The door shut, leaving you staring at it. Sighing deeply, you went back to your work, trying not to let your thoughts loop out of control.

Your eyes flew open, chest heaving, sweat pooling at the small of your back. Breathing hard, you stared at the small star-like dots on your ceiling.

"Fucking-" You sat up, leaning forward and rubbing over your face with your hands. Huffing, you threw your comforter to the side and got you of bed. Stomping over to your dresser, you put on the pajama shirt that matched your pants over your tank. Grabbing your phone, you shuffled out to the living room, hesitating before dropping yourself and your device onto the couch. Looking toward the door to the other bedroom, it was slightly propped open for the cat. Your dog was noticeably absent, so you walked softly over to the door, peaking in. Cookie was laying at the foot of the bed on a spare blanket San most likely had laid out, Byeol loafing in the curve of the husky's body. The sight made you smile, and you glanced to where San was sleeping. Laid out like a starfish, the blanket hit him around the middle, and one of his feet was sticking out from under.

"(Y/N)?" His voice caught your attention when you started to step out of the doorway.

"Y-yeah?"

"Did you have another nightmare?"

"Yes." When he started to get out of bed, you tried to protest.

"Come on." He ignored your stumbling words, sliding past you in the doorway, his hand grabbing yours as he moved. He led you back to your room, getting into your bed without hesitation.

"San-" You got in as well, but stayed sitting up as he laid down.

"Just…sleep." He mumbled, hand grabbing the back of your shirt and pulling you down into his arms. Shuffling under you so he could get more comfortable, your head ended up resting on his shoulder, his other arm around your waist. He fell back asleep fast, his fingers that had been running over your hair stilling. Your heart was thudding hard, you could even hear it pulsing. How the hell were you supposed to fall asleep like that? You pondered that question, but at the same time, your eyes were growing heavy and sleep was washing over you. At first, you were only about half-asleep, somewhat aware still of his soft breathing. Right as you began to actually go to sleep, you felt a soft press on the corner of your mouth. This woke you up fully, but you managed to keep your eyes closed, body limp. Did he just kiss you? His fingers were back to running over your hair, "you have no idea, huh?" His voice was so quiet that even though your nose was near his throat, you barely heard it. San sighed, kissing your forehead, you could tell that time for sure. Finally, you couldn't fight sleep off, and fell asleep in his arms.

Once again, when you woke up in the morning, he was already out of bed. You couldn't hear anything else, and when you glanced at the clock it was a little past 9. Getting up with a stretch, you looked to the empty side of your bed. Giving in to your intrusive thoughts, you pulled the side of the comforter he had been using up to your nose and you sighed. Smelled like him, and you hated how good that made you feel. Dropping the blanket like it was hot, you scampered out of bed and made your way down the hall. Peaking around the archway that led into the main room of the apartment, you saw he wasn't in the kitchen and the bathroom door was open. Your dog barked happily and came to greet you and as you pet her, you noticed a note on the counter. He had gone out to do some things and let you know he would be back for supper. You weren't sure if you were disappointed or relieved at this. You only had two, maybe three, more nights before your sister returned. Wooyoung was supposed to not long after that. You were worried what you might let, or want to, happen the longer you were there with San, just the two of you. For some reason, you felt horrible about your rising affections with San, but you had no commitment to Wooyoung in anyway but your own feelings toward him. It would probably be better if you tried to move on, but there was a small part of you that hoped your sister would get with Younghoon, then Wooyoung could move on, and go to you. While you logically understood that would probably not happen, you still hoped.

Continuing with your day as normal, you finished the suit you had been working on and was able to move on to a dress that was commissioned. You enjoyed making whole ensembles more than making adjustments and other altering jobs. Going over the list, you saw you had nearly all of the materials and supplies already, but you would most likely need even more of the right color thread. You could wait a bit though, since you weren't sure when you would run out. As you were rechecking your list, your phone started to ring. Hitting the answer button and putting it on speaker, you put all the supplies on the desk.

"This is (Y/N)."

"Hello, Miss (Y/N). I'm a delivery driver for Blooming Days Flowers. I was just wanting to make sure you would be at home in the next fifteen minutes?"

"Oh, uh, yes." You had no idea who would have sent flowers.

"Great, thanks!" He hung up and you blinked back at the flashing 'call ended' on your phone. Trying to keep going with your job, it was hard, your thoughts wandering to who the heck sent flowers. When the bell rang, you quickly went to the door and the man on the other side smiled, holding a bouquet of flowers in a vase. There were two different purple flowers, some a golden yellow, and more smaller white filler-flowers.

"Oh, thank you!" You took the bouquet and the man had you stamp on his clipboard. He took his leave and you moved further into the apartment, door shutting behind you. Placing the vase on the counter, you plucked the little card from the top, reading the text on the front.

"Praying for a good night's sleep! Inspired by holistic sleeping-remedy flowers: Lavender, Passionflower, California Poppy and Valerian!" You read out loud, figuring out who it was from before you flipped the card around. You had to take a deep breath, fighting back tears once again.

Thought this might help? ~San

You took several measured, deep breaths. It didn’t work, a tear rolling down your cheek before you could stop it. Placing your hand down on the counter, you didn't have to get close to the bouquet to smell the fresh lavender. Not normally one for flowers, this was the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for you. You licked your lips, letting out a shuddering breath, you could taste the salt of your tears. You had thought he had a crush on you, something small, but this? It seemed like he lo-

"Fuck." Your jaw clenched, the card crinkling where your thumb pressed it too hard. Sniffing hard to prevent your nose from running, you let the card go, smoothing it out a bit. You aggressively sniffled, upset with your own mixed emotions and stomped back to your studio. Were trying but failing to continue working without getting tears and snot on the red fabric.

"(Y/N)! I got food!" You heard him easily even though you were back in your room, the door closed. For the last hour you had been sitting on the floor, back to the wall, facing your bed. You tried laying down, but the comforter still smelled like him. You tried to read and distract yourself, but you kept getting the pages wet. Tears were still drying on your face and new ones came up when you heard his voice. You were so tired at that point, head hurting. Your hand was at your mouth, arms crossed on top of your knees, and you bit your thumbnail. Working for another three hours after you got the delivery, you put it out of your mind, but everything came back when you spotted them on the counter, coming out of your studio.

"(Y/N)?" San called again, but you still didn't reply.

"(Y/N)?" He was coming down the hall and you got up reluctantly, sniffing hard while grabbing a tissue. You blew your nose and he knocked on the door.

"Come in." Your voice was a bit hoarse and when he came in, seeing your eyes and cheeks red, tissue rubbing at your nose, his face fell.

"Hey, what's wrong?" He immediately came forward, hands going to your cheeks, thumbs rubbing over the skin.

"J-just…" You forced a smile.

"I was just moved from you sending me the flowers, then I was reading…" Your lie was pretty believable since your book was still open, face down on the bed.

"Oh." He slumped in relief, and you wished he hadn't removed his hands from your face.

"You really liked the flowers?" His brow furrowed nervously.

"Yes, San. They're…" Your breath shuddered but you covered it with a soft chuckle.

"They're beautiful, and so thoughtful." You played with the balled-up tissue in your hand, not able to look him in the eye.

"Good! I got food from the place on the corner you like so much." He led you out to the main room and you slowly followed. You tried to maintain your normal attitude while you ate, and it got easier as you both joked and he told you about his day. Your phone dinged and you glanced down. When the name registered, your entire body stiffened and you exhaled hard, picking the device up to look at the message.

You doin' good? Is Sannie playing nice?

Wooyoung…

"Is it Woo?"

"Yeah." You nodded a bit, typing out a simple yes, you sent it. His phone dinged then as well and he scoffed at what he read.

"He knows you're lying." San shot you a deadpan look and your jaw dropped a bit, then you cleared your throat.

"Why does he think that?"

"You didn't capitalize it. It was too short too." San stuck his tongue against his cheek, making it poke out. You rolled your eyes.

"Bitch." You sneered, grabbing the phone and redoing the message.

I'm not lying. I'm busy. Grow up.

You weren't normally terse with him like that. He would definitely know something was up. Backspacing, you redid it once again.

I'm not lying. We were busy eating. I'm fine and yes, San is being nice. Really nice.

You hit send and you didn't get a reply after he read it, but San's went off. He glared at what he saw, not bothering to reply himself, putting his phone face down on the counter; he even muted it.

"What did he say?" You were curious but tried to maintain a neutral tone.

"Little shit, just something about not becoming your new best friend." That was a lie and you knew it but let the topic drop.

"I'm going to play a game with the guys for a bit, do you want to watch?"

"You're gonna use Woo's computer?"

"Sure am." He smiled, his dimples revealing themselves. You considered it, then you were going to say yes, then considered it again.

"I think I'll finish that show I started the other day." You told him and he shrugged, going off to do what he said after cleaning up his dishes. You hadn't finished yet, so you took the last few bites, then just left the dish in the sink. Slumping over to the couch, you put on the show and only kind of watched it. You were rewatching anyway…

"Fuck!" You sat up, your heart beating so fast, breathing so hard you felt like you had just run a mile. Not caring how bad it messed up your hair, you buried your fingers in at the scalp, pulling on the strands to center yourself in the waking realm. Why the hell were your nightmares coming back so strong? In the low pink light of your room, you glared at the bouquet of flowers on your dresser. They did jack shit.

"Don't take it out on the flowers…" You scolded yourself, sitting back against the headboard. You did so quite hard, enough so to rattle the frame, and the attached nightstand. The glass of water you had on it fell over, rolled, then fell off, the glass shattering on the hard wood.

"Shit!" You almost got out of bed, but then moved to go to the other side so you didn't land barefoot on glass.

"(Y/N)?" San had peaked his head in, he wasn't in his pajamas yet, so he must have just gotten done with his game.

"Hey, wait!" He stopped you as you moved to start picking up the pieces, slippers on just in case. He was in crocs, so he took the trash can from you. Using his sleeve over his hand, he gently picked up the fragments and put them in. He looked up when you handed him a roll of tape. He pulled a section out and tore it off, smacking it against the floor to pick up any small bits that might be left.

"What happened?" San threw the tape away too and you put the bin back down.

"I…I had another nightmare, and so I rattled the bed frame and the glass on the nightstand fell."

"Another? Maybe you can't sleep without me." He smirked playfully, but it fell when he noticed you didn't even twitch your lips.

"Give me like five minutes." He held his hand up to motion you to wait, heading back down the hall. Sighing, you sat on the bed, feet on the floor. Staring at the small scratch on the wall that was left by your keys when you tripped and caught yourself, you pondered what your bad dreams could mean. Why were you having so many? You almost never had more than one in such a short time frame. Was it really just from not having your sister around? That wouldn't make sense…

"Here, let's get you to sleep." San came in, wearing a white t-shirt and grey sweatpants. Seriously? Out of all the things he could possibly wear, he had to put on that? Did he not know what the simple combination did?

"Come here." He had gotten under the covers, arms open, waiting for you. Swallowing hard, you laid back down in his embrace, feeling comforted already. That scared you, honestly, almost more than the bad dreams.

"What are you thinking about?" He had seen your pensive face.

"Nothing-"

"No. Tell me." You huffed in reply.

"Did…Did you kiss me yesterday night?" You felt him stiffen, much like you normally did.

"I did, on the forehead-"

"No. Tell me." You shot back at him. San stayed quiet for a second and you could almost hear the wheels in his head turning.

"Yes." His reply was soft, like the kiss on the corner of your mouth from before.

"What do I have no idea about?" He really hadn't thought you were awake, and he shifted nervously before responding. The man was taking his sweet time, and you were about to give up, not having the energy to press the issue.

"How much I like you…" He finally got out; your suspicions confirmed. He thought you would flinch, stiffen up, even hitch your breath, but he got nothing, so he pulled away enough to look at your face. It was flat, but your eyes were glossy.

"How much?" His eyes widened at your question.

"How much?" He repeated.

"How much do you like me?" He licked his lips, nervous, but then the nerves seemed to dissipate. The hand on your waist went up to cup your cheek, the arm under your head wrapping around your shoulders. When his lips lightly touched yours, you at first thought the contact generated a static shock. But he didn't flinch back, instead, he fully pressed his lips on yours. You shivered, easily melting into the kiss. Your hands flew up to cup his jaw, the ends of your fingers burying in his hair. He grunted, rolling a bit so he was leaning over you some. You whined when his hand rested on your hip, thumb brushing the exposed skin from where your tank top rode up. Your hands moved down, one going to scratch at the hair on the nape of his neck, the other slinking under the collar of his shirt, over his broad back. San took the opportunity when your whine slightly parted your lips, tongue brushing the lower one. You let him in, whining louder as his tongue tasted yours. He was over you completely then, forearm easily holding his weight over you, the hand on your hip slipping lower past the waistband of your sleep pants. Deep down you knew you shouldn't, knew you might regret it, feel horrible, feel like you used him, feel like you were somehow betraying Wooyoung…

"(Y/N)-" San pulled away from the kiss, both of your lips starting to swell from the pressure, saliva leaving a strand of connection.

"Just- please- need you-" You heaved out and he groaned. Making sure he was still close enough to brush his lips over yours, he got on his up on his knees, kneeling over you more, one thigh pressing between yours to open your legs. He wrestled with his shirt a bit, pulling away enough to get it over his head and off, his mouth sealing back to yours as he threw the shirt behind him somewhere. As San's tongue ran over your own, the roof of your mouth, your teeth, anywhere it could reach, you couldn't help but feel over him. His soft skin stretched over his toned chest and abs, his broad shoulders and back leading down to his narrow waist. While he swallowed your tongue and moans, his hands deftly undid the buttons of your pajama shirt, hauling you up to sit so he could take it off. Your tank was swiftly removed as well, joining his own shirt somewhere on the floor. He bit your lip when he pulled back from the kiss, his leading a trail down to your jaw, neck, over your throat and collar bone. His hands on your bare skin felt searing, one on your lower back to lead you to lift your hips. San led you to wrap your still covered legs around his waist, his other hand had cupped your breast, kneading the flesh, the skin pebbling into goosebumps from the sensation. You gasped hard as his lips wrapped over one of your nipples, and at the same time, he ground his growing hard-on into your rapidly soaking cunt through both of your pants. He was spurred on by your breathing picking up, soft moans escaping you. As he kissed over to and sealed his lips over your other nipple, he wrestled your pants and panties off at the same time.

"S-San-!" Your whole body twitched as his fingers met your glistening folds, the first easily sliding in, wiggling against your walls.

"Fucking soaked, precious." He chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest and through your fingers pressing against him. You mewled when his kisses went back up to your neck, full on whimpering when his tongue licked a path from the bow of your collar bone and up to the base of your ear.

"Gonna fuck you so good, baby girl." His low voice, right in your ear, took your breath away, his second finger spreading you open. He tried to chuckle at your yelp as he softly pressed his teeth against the skin of your neck, sucking hard, working blood to the surface of your skin to leave his mark.

"W-wait-!" Your body shuddered, back arching, head thrown back when he added a third finger, his thumb pressing over your clit.

"Gotta get your cute little pussy ready, you're too tight for my cock, love." San's nose ran over your throat, then rested his forehead on your collarbone. He looked down at where you were sucking his fingers in, not able to hold in his mirth. He loved how tiny you felt under him, writhing and whimpering. He had been waiting for this for so long, and he knew you were vulnerable, and shouldn't be taking the opportunity, but he was weak. If you were going to ask for him, he would give you what you wanted.

"Fu- God! San!" Your cunt clenched his fingers, pulsing with your heart and he circled your clit, lips going back to hover over yours.

"Cum for me, sweetheart." He prompted and you immediately did, blunt nails digging into the skin of his upper back, head lolling against the pillow. San smirked above you, watching your eyes roll back in your head as your cunt spasmed, soaking his hand. Your body shivered one last time as he removed his fingers, barely registering as he lapped his tongue over his fingers, groaning at your taste. Your tired eyes tried to focus as he climbed off the bed, figure out what he was doing. You yelped when his hands on your ankles yanked you down the bed, the comforter falling to the floor and he knelt on it, leveling his face with your swollen cunt.

"San-?!" Your voice ended in a very undignified choking sound as he buried his tongue inside your core, filling the void his fingers had left. He wasn't planning on fucking you open with his tongue, but you tasted too fucking good. His strong hands gripped your inner thighs, so hard he was definitely going to bruise them, holding you open. Your body was still weak from your orgasm, so you couldn't fight him anyway. San pressed his tongue against your gummy walls, pulling back so he could swipe through your folds, then circle your clit. You were still sensitive, the sensation jolted you, he could feel your muscles spasm under his hands. Your next orgasm was coming on fast, and your fingers wove through his hair, trying to ground yourself through your hands, his own not allowing your hips to ride his tongue.

"S-San~!" You fell apart on his tongue that time and he eagerly drank and swallowed every drop that fell from your needy cunt, reveling in the pleasure he was bringing over you. Kissing your swollen nub, you whimpered and he stood up, even though his pants were loose, they were tight against his hard cock. Your eyes were glazed over, head rolling to the side, staring at the wall. Your gaze was drawn back to him as he pulled the waistband of his pants and boxers up and over his swollen dick and your mouth watered when the clothing fell, leaving him naked.

"Fuck." You huffed, still catching your breath and he couldn't fight the smug grin that spread over his face. No wonder he felt the need to prep you, you didn’t even know if you could get your fingers all the way around him.

"Come here, precious." He easily lifts you to haul you back up the bed, gently letting your head hit the pillow. The other he brought to rest under your lower back, finally letting you down. Your hips angled up allowed him to sit up higher on his knees to give him better leverage. When the fat head of his cock met your cunt you clenched your jaw, readying for the stretch.

"Wait, do I need a con-"

"Just fuck me, San." You wanted to sound more assertive, but you just whined like a spoiled child.

"Okay, precious." His smirk grew and he wrapped his arm around your left leg by your knee, the other leg spread with his hand on your inner thigh. When San started to press in you gasped with each breath, trying to breathe through him splitting you open. You were so tight around him, your gummy walls erratically spasming around his cock, your wet heat felt incredible. He groaned low and long as your cunt swallowed each inch of him, somehow accommodating his thick length.

"Such a good girl, sweetheart." He cooed as he bottomed out, adjusting your legs to spread you open even further, giving him a perfect view. You were so wet, your slick already glistening on the base of his cock. Your entire body was in shock, almost. Everything seemed to be spasming at him rearranging your guts, filling you so completely and wonderfully, you wondered if anyone would suffice after him. You were already drunk on his delicious cock, and he hadn't even moved yet. He could tell from having felt it on his fingers and tongue, that your cunt was throbbing, ready for you to cum again. He was going to fuck you through your high so many times that tears would flow over your cheeks again, but from bliss instead of sorrow and frustration. He wanted to fuck every little negative thought from your pretty head, drive away the memory of your nightmares. Wanted to leave you only with thoughts of him, his hands, his lips and tongue, his voice, and his cock. He was already making head way it seemed.

"Can I move, precious?" San leaned down to gently kiss at the corner of your mouth, tongue brushing over your bottom lip. You nodded, whining, not able to think to get a word out. He barely pulled out an inch, making you whimper, the searing stretch filling you with painful pleasure. San artfully snapped his hips, the tip of his cock hammering your back wall and cervix, pelvis meeting your clit, sending you even closer to the edge. The next thrust was a little deeper, a little harder and your whole body went limp, the third thrust nearly made you black out. Your cunt spasmed, squirting slick and wet over his groin and balls, core clenching his cock so tight he had to breathe hard to hold back. He chuckled as your orgasm waved through you over and over, and he wondered how long you had needed to get fucked. He was so glad he was the one to do so, and he would eagerly do it over and over, till you were dumb and stupid for him. A tiny voice inside him kept repeating to him that he would always fuck you better than Wooyoung, that his best friend would never be able to ravish you the way he was planning. Over and over-

"San, please, please…" He wasn’t sure what you were begging for, but your high had laid, so he continued. Throwing your legs over his elbows, pressing closer to you so you were nearly folded in half, he huffed a laugh.

"You want me to fuck you good, love?"

"Yes!"

"Want my cock to fuck you stupid?"

"YES, fuck PLEASE." His hips rolled, leaving only a bit more than the head of his cock in you, before filling you fast and hard again. Your already kind of flimsy headboard thudded hard against the brick wall, creaking under the power of his hips slamming his cock into you, skin slapping, grunts leaving him and mewls leaving you. Your fingers turned white as you gripped your sheets hard, worried that the worn material might tear despite your blunt nails.

"God, you're so fucking perfect (Y/N)~" San groaned, letting one of your legs go so you wrapped it around his narrow waist. The now free hand gripped over the one you had up by your head, easing your fingers out of the sheets so they could instead weave through his. San's lips fell back to yours, thrusts growing shallower but no less hard, you felt like he might dislodge a kidney with the strength behind each motion. As his pelvis met yours, he ground into your clit, and you were growing close to another orgasm, and he was planning on letting go with you. He tried so hard to maintain his rhythm, almost having to just grind into you to keep control, fucking so deep inside you thought he was in your throat.

"Cum for me, precious. Cum on my cock." San pulled back from the kiss, and his words granted you your relief, your final climax really did make your vision go black, flashes of white dotting your vision and his voice rumbled through the room as his hot cum painted your insides white. He came so much that his release spilled out from where he split you open, a mix of your cum dripping onto the sheets. You had fallen limp like a rag doll, eyes closed, chest heaving, little whines accompanied each breath. He was heaving for air as well, the emotions he felt from finally being inside you, pleasuring you, hitting him then. If he already liked you, he was truly infatuated then, never wanting to leave your hold or your warmth.

When consciousness finally washed over you, it took you a second to figure out why the hell you were so sore. Your thighs were sore, random spots on your neck and shoulders, your hips, back, and cunt. Everything hit you then and your body protested as you wiggled on the bed, trying to get the strength to sit up. Your bed was once again empty despite having shared it for the night.

"Fuck." You whimpered as your lower half pulsed as you got out of bed, legs incredibly weak. You were naked as the day you were born, and you pretty much limped over to the bathroom. After relieving yourself, you finally looked in the mirror, gasping. There were several dark red and purple marks over your neck, shoulders and chest, one mark even had teeth marks.

"Choi San!" You scolded him despite his absence, rubbing the little bruises and wincing. You were glad you worked from home, because there was no way to cover the hickeys in the middle of May. You took a shower, the hot water washing away many different layers from your body. You winced when the water flowed over your sore pussy, still a bit swollen from being pleasantly ruined by San's monster cock. Getting out of the shower, you got dressed in a matching tank top and shorts, the mint-colored fabric was soft and loose. There was no way you could handle any pressure on your cunt, so you went commando. San had already seen everything anyway. Nervously and shakily going down the hall to the main room, you heard the other shower running. Cookie lifted her head from where she laid right in front of the door, slowly getting up and stretching before going to greet you.

"Good morning~" You cooed at your pup and then limped over to the fridge, your dog whining a bit at your strange gait. She watched with interest as you pulled some ingredients out of the fridge, needing some protein to compensate for the intense work out you had gone through. When your husky smelled the bacon as soon as you opened the package, she started to wag her tail, whimpering.

"No begging!" You scolded the dog, and she was so well trained she simply hung her head and trudged away, down the hall and presumably into your sister's room. You barely heard the shower turn off and the door open over the popping and sizzling of the bacon and eggs in their pans. You had assumed he would go to his room to get dressed, but you startled when he wrapped his arms around your middle from behind.

"San, I'm cooking!" you scolded, trying to pry his arms off of you. Your heart rate had spiked, more from fear than bashfulness. You still hadn't processed what had happened the night before, especially not emotionally.

"Sorry!" He giggled and leg you go, but only moved to stand next to you. Your face was warm and your eyes stung a bit, brow furrowed. Once all the food was plated and the heat of the stove was off, you turned to him, taking a step back.

"San, I think-"

"Let's eat first, precious. I tired you out." He took both of the plates, walking around you to get to the dining table. You followed after him slowly and he pulled a chair out for you which you gratefully sat down on. Then you regretted it, the hard wood pressing into your sore thighs and groin. You then noticed he was in a white tank top and blue track pants, towel around his neck. He always looked so good… Despite wanting to talk with him, you were really freaking hungry, so you ate first, trying to ignore his warm and fond gaze. You knew before you let him rail you into next week that you would regret it. You did, you regretted it and felt guilty. Felt like you used him. Feel like you betrayed Wooyoung… The final bite of food was harder for you to swallow along with the knot of emotions rising up. Your breath shuddered, and he noticed the tear fall from your eye and onto the empty plate.

"Hey, baby girl, what's wrong?" He immediately got up, coming to your side and kneeling so he could look up at you. Your crying picked up then, your hands covering your mouth to try and muffle your sobs, scooting back and away from him.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" You repeated between each sob that made you gasp, desperate to let out the emotions that had finally boiled over.

"Oh, precious." He sighed, trying to pull you into a hug and you pushed your chair back further, standing up so fast the chair rocked then fell back, clattering onto the floor. San stayed where he was, feeling utterly helpless as you crumbled to the floor. You balled your fists on the wood floor, tears splatting on your skin and then floor. Despite wanting so bad to go to you, he stayed in the same spot, not wanting to step over the line.

"God, I'm such a fucking bitch." You whimpered to yourself and he couldn't disagree more.

"No, no, precious girl, you're not." He finally got up, kneeling back in front of you, but not trying to touch or hold you.

"Yes, I am! I…God, I used you. I took the chance, and I shouldn't have. I…What about…" You heaved for air and he felt his heart breaking. Sighing, he shifted to sitting with his legs crossed instead, waiting patiently for you to calm down.

"What about Wooyoung?" Your voice was quiet, but not only did he know what you were going to say, he had a feeling that's what your issue was. He felt a bit like he took advantage of you since you were obviously emotionally weak at the time. Why did you feel like that? Did it hurt to see you so upset because of your feelings for his best friend? Of course. But he knew the situation going into it.

"I'm sorry, San. I can't do this. You're Wooyoung's best friend-"

"Are you in love with Wooyoung, or is it just a crush?" His question threw you off.

"I…I don't-"

"Why are you waiting for him when it's possible he'll never go to you? I'm right here." He insisted and you sniffed, trying to stop your tears.

"But if there's a chance-"

"Look, I didn't want to go here, but… Wooyoung is in love with your sister, okay? He doesn’t just like her, or have a crush on her, he's in love. If you're not in love with him, you can drop it, right? …I'm right here." His voice had gotten a bit unsteady, his own emotions becoming difficult to control.

"I think you should go home." Your sobs had quieted, but that sentence pierced him harder than everything else. He wanted to argue, try and convince you, but if you needed space, he would give it to you.

By the time his bag was packed and he was leaving Wooyoung's room, you had gotten up off the floor, picked up the chair and was cleaning the dishes from breakfast.

"If you need anything…" He drifted off, hand on the doorknob. You trudged over to the door as he opened it, planning on locking the door with the chain after he was gone. You wouldn't meet his eye, and he prayed desperately that you wouldn't have a nightmare that night without him or anyone else there.

When the door closed, you slowly locked it with the chain, dropping your hand. He was standing on the other side of the door, not wanting to leave yet. He closed his eyes tight when he heard your start to cry again. You leaned against the door after it shut, sliding to the floor in a heap, sobbing once again. You were beginning to realize you liked San, liked him back. Maybe even more than Wooyoung, which was terrifying. Just over the short amount of time he had been staying with you, he had needled his way into your heart, more than as just a friend. Little did you know, San was still on the other side of the door, trying not to cry himself listening to you sob. Your near wails quieted as new feelings bubbled up. You thought you wanted him gone, so you could process, but thinking of him leaving shattered you.

"Please, please, please." He suddenly heard you speaking, stepping away from the door. He heard the chair rattle as you unlocked the door and opened it. You weren't expecting him to still be right there, but relief washed over you. You began to cry again, more in relief, and he immediately went back in. He dropped his bag and returned your embrace, hugging you close to him as you cried. San rested his cheek against the side of your head, petting your soft hair, a few tears of his own hitting your shoulder.

"(Y/N), oh sweet girl." He sniffed, easily holding you when you went limp in his arms. You let him lift you princess style, refusing to loosen your arm's hold around his neck and shoulders. Kicking the door closed, he carried you over to the couch, sitting down so you could sit on his lap. Your sobs ceased, his hands rubbing comfortingly over your back.

"I'm sorry." Your soft whimper hurt him, to hear you so defeated.

"(Y/N), precious, why are you so sorry?"

"I…I used you."

"How?"

"I was upset and took advantage of your feelings for me."

"I know." You pulled back abruptly, gaping at him.

"Sweetheart, I took advantage of you too. You were vulnerable-"

"San, San…" He had started to ramble nonsense, so you cupped his jaw, bringing his attention back to you.

"I'm sorry I was being…" You licked your lips, thinking, "I let my feelings for Wooyoung cloud my real- You asked if I loved Wooyoung? No, I don't. It is just a crush…" Your thumb ran over his cheekbone, his wide, beautiful eyes shining up at you.

"I know that I'm not your first choice. I understand that. Honestly, I don't care if I'm your second choice, or even your third. All that matters, is that you choose me in the end." You sniffled at his words, huffing a slightly sad laugh.

"I thought that there was only one choice, but…"

"But?"

"You're right here." You sighed, your own face softening; you had finally rationalized everything. Why your heart thumped so fast, why his actions brought tears to your eyes…Why you needed him to hold you to keep the nightmares away and why they came back when he wasn't there.

"(Y/N)… I didn't want to overwhelm you, but- I love you. I love you so much, I have for so long." His own emotions were bubbling up, his own eyes tearing up along with yours.

"We've known each other, what, five years?" You nodded, whimpering, trying to not cry harder.

"I started liking you three months in. It was when you went to adopt Cookie, and you were mobbed by all the puppies. You laid there, giggling, and I wanted to be one of those dogs. So bad."

"F-for that long?" You were so shocked you stopped crying. San hummed, rubbing your back, hand slipping under your tank top.

"I've held back so much. Every time you have something on your lip, I want to kiss it off. If you’re cold, I want you to have my jacket. I want to buy every little charm or pretty thing that makes me think of you. To go to Namsan tower and put a lock on with you…" He stopped when you slumped forward, resting your cheek on his shoulder, and he hugged you closer. Your heart had been wanting to break earlier, but all his sweet words filled the cracks in with gold.

"I'm sorry I was so blind, and selfish, and stupid. I'm sorry I can't say I love you back, because I really don't know at this point. But I do know-" you sat up to look at him, "I really, really like you. Will you forgive me for being a horrible person?"

"You're not a horrible person, sweetheart. Not only are your emotions everywhere, you're sleep deprived." His hand went to cup your cheek, brushing another stray tear away.

"Will you show me something?" You bowed your head a bit, face reddening, hands fiddling with the bottom of his sweatshirt.

"Whatever you want, precious."

"Can you show me again, how you feel about me?" Your voice was soft, a bit embarrassed, thinking of what you had asked him that night. Yes, you were sore, but in the best possible way, and you wanted- needed him again.

"Are you sure, pretty girl? I don't think I can hold back like last night." His voice was low, but his gaze had sharpened. What the hell did he mean by that? He held back? What the fuck was he going to do that was more intense than last night?

"You held back?" You questioned and he huffed, a sexy and smug smirk gracing his handsome face.

"Hm. I did. Can you handle me full force?" His eyebrow rose in question and you swallowed hard; he could hear it.

"I think I can…" Your voice was quiet, quivering, but you were excited. Your cunt throbbed, still sore but you were getting hot quickly.

"I need a solid answer, precious."

"Yes. I can." His smirk glitched into a giddy smile for a second, but he gathered his composure.

"What should I do first…?" He wondered aloud, many different possibilities running through his head.

"Can I make a suggestion?" You tried to sound coy and smug like him, but it didn't really work.

"Of course, sweetheart."

"I…" You exhaled carefully, normally not so shy, "I want to swallow your cock." Your eyes flitted up to look at him and his eyes rolled back in his head as he groaned.

"Precious, are you sure? I don't want to hurt you-"

"I want you to fuck my throat, then cum down it." You were building your confidence back up from the response you got from him. Your lips were at his ear, your tongue flicking the little earring he had in, then you kissed the side of his neck.

"On the floor then, baby girl." He almost gasped at how fast you scrambled off of his lap, eagerly and obediently sitting on your knees. You watched with wide eyes as he took his sweatshirt off, then removed the tank he had on underneath. San bit his lip, trying to not giggle as you ogled him. He noticed your hands twitch on your lap, ready to take his pants off yourself.

"Tell me, do you mind if I do all the work?" The intention was clear in his words and tone.

"Yes, please~" You shuffled in your crouch, but stayed still. Your eyes zeroed in on the bulge in his pants, whimpering in need as he once again let his pants fall. His cock was only about half hard; you wiggled your jaw knowing it would end up sore too. You wanted to be sore completely and all over when he was done with you. His hand wrapped around his cock, stroking it a few times, stepping forward so he was within reach, but you stayed still.

"What a good girl you are." He hummed and you eagerly opened your mouth when the head of his dick touched your lips. You groaned at the taste of him, swirling your tongue around the tip, sucking lightly.

"Fuck-" San sighed, hands going to your hair, leading his cock deeper and deeper into your mouth. When he hit the back of your throat, you looked up at him with wide, hazy eyes. As he heard you take a large inhale through your nose, he kept going and your whole body shuddered as his cock went down your throat. Your cunt clenched desperately against itself, not having anything inside to satisfy it.

"Oh, fucking hell, sweetheart." He groaned, your nose pressing to his pelvis. He was impressed you hadn't gagged yet, but you were swallowing over and over trying to get used to the sensation. He stayed there like that for a second, to the point where your head began to swim a bit, the lack of air intoxicating. When he pulled his hips back, just enough that you could desperately suck air in through your nose, he registered the depth that allowed you to breathe.

"Count, precious. I'll bottom out every five thrusts, 'kay?" He instructed and you nodded with a whine in acknowledgement. You tried to hold you jaw in the same position, eagerly sucking on his cock as he thrust, inhaling deep when he went all the way. Each time he groaned, grinding his pelvis against your face. You knew he had stamina, and even though he didn't block your airway each time, your vision was spotting a bit, but not enough for you to stop him. The taste of his precum building made your mouth water, a mix of your saliva and the salty fluid dripping on the hard wood floor and your lap. The slick sound and the mess on your face and his cock brought him that much closer. San smirked at the prick of tears in the corner of your eyes, welling up from his fat cock battering your throat.

"Mmh~ I'm going to cum down your throat, precious. Just like you wanted~" His airy chuckle turned to a groan and he tossed his head back, struggling to keep his rhythm. His dick pulsed hard on your tongue and you finally moved yourself, hands going to his butt, holding him so he couldn't pull back.

"Fuck-!" He grunted and came, pumping thick globs of hot cum into your mouth and throat. You kept swallowing, only gagging a bit then from the sticky substance and he finally pulled out so you could catch your breath. More saliva and cum dripped off your lips, your mouth open, panting. A drop landed on your chest, running down the skin and in between your breasts.

"Such a good girl, love." San grinned at your dazed expression, wide glossy eyes peering up at him.

"You safe?" You took a second to register his question, mind still foggy.

"Pill." You managed to get out hoarsely, throat protesting for several reasons.

"Good, because I'm gonna pump you full." He smirked. You held your hands up for him to help you stand, but he instead bent, wrapping his around your back and lifting you like a child under your arms. The ease to which he did so turned you on even more and you used your own core strength to lift your legs and wrap them around his middle.

He walked forward, pressing you into the wall by the door, cock fully hard again, rubbing over the damp spot of your shorts. Working with him to get your clothes off, your shorts were still dangling off of your ankle when his cock plunged into you. The sudden burn made your cunt clench hard around him and he hissed, still a bit sensitive from his orgasm. You were plenty wet, and he had just fucked you hours prior, but he was so big. It made sense why he prepped you before, and it didn't help you were still sore. But you could not care less, the stinging pain just added to your euphoria.

San groaned when your nails dug into his back for leverage, scratching red welts into the skin.

"Ready?" He didn't wait for your response, thrusting up hard and shallow twice, then rolling his hips to slam into you full force. You threw your head back hitting the wall a bit hard, but you were too immersed in San and his animal pace. Your breasts bounced with every thrust and you held onto his shoulders for dear life. He had your legs over his elbows again, getting as close to you as he could, piercing your core with sharp movements, dragging you hopelessly fast to orgasm. It was hard to catch your breath and moan, let alone speak words, tears built in your eyes. When they rolled over your cheeks, he leaned in to lick the salt away. He hated seeing you cry from sorrow or from being upset, but watching tears of pleasure flow over your red cheeks went straight to his cock. So cute.

"You're so freaking pretty, precious. Love my cock so much you just wanna cry?" His chuckle was slightly patronizing.

"Just go dumb, baby girl, think of nothing but my dick in your tight little cunt."

"San!" You gasped, your next climax starting. He slowed his pace so you could ride the waves, but didn't want to overstimulate you yet, so he forced his pelvis against your swollen clit. With each rolling crest of pleasure, your cunt leaked, making another mess on the floor.

San pulled away from the wall, walking to a different part of the apartment and you protested vehemently when he slowly pulled his cock from your still spasming pussy. He set your feet down, spinning you around and you immediately placed your hands on the window to stay upright- Wait, window!? You gaped, looking out toward the park you could see from the window.

"S-San-?"

"No one can see you up here, at least I don't think…" He chuckled and didn't allow any more argument and fucked back into you.

"Fuck!" You nearly screamed. Somehow, he was even deeper than before, and the front of his hips slapped against your ass with each pound. Your hot breath was fogging the window, even the heat from your palms did so. San's fingers pressed so hard into your flesh; you knew there would be bruises there for sure, maybe darker than the faint yellow ones on your inner thighs from the night before. Struggling a bit with the height difference, you were forced onto your tippy toes, legs quivering as each stroke of his thick cock sapped more and more of your strength.

"Huh, I'm close precious. Gonna fill you up, fuck you full~" He licked his lips like a hungry dog. You squeaked when his strong grip weaved through your hair, wrapping your braid in his first, tugging lightly as he ground his cock as deep as possible, filling your womb with even more of his seed. It was so hot; he was so deep and even the sensation of him tugging on your hair felt so good. Your body eked out another smaller orgasm, helping him ride his out. He was still hard, albeit a little bit less so. You didn't know if your poor little cunt and body could take much more, but your mind didn't care. If we wanted to rail you till you passed out, you would thank him when you came to. When San pulled his cock out again, more globs of cum leaked out of your abused hole, which still was twitching. He smirked at your quivering body, not having moved much, and cooed as he easily picked you up like a sack of potatoes, then transitioned to a princess carry. Your head flopped as you panted for air, waiting patiently as he carried you back to your room, shutting the door to prevent your pup from following. However, when he put you on the bed, he didn't join right away, instead heading for your standing mirror. He moved it to rest facing the side of your bed and you hazily registered the act. Letting him maneuver you, he sat with you on his lap, back facing him, proud cock arching against your cunt.

"Look there, precious." His hand lightly gripped your jaw, forcing your head to turn and see your reflection. You were an absolute mess, but you were too focused on his equally messy cock and the fact that it still wasn't back inside you.

"San, hurry, please!" You whimpered and he chuckled at your insistence, lifting you and slowly pushing you down onto him again. His legs were spread so your knees resting over them were spread wide too, leaving a perfect view of your small pussy taking his girthy dick.

"Fucking gorgeous, (Y/N)." He praised, kissing the side of your head, jaw still in his grasp to make sure you watched.

"I want you to remember this, how it looks when I fuck you, and that no one will ever be able to after me." His words made you whimper, the small noise rising in pitch and volume as he started to thrust up into you, also moving you with the arm around your middle. Like you were being hypnotized you watched San's cock pull out halfway before sinking back into you, so much cum and slick dripping from where he sat inside you.

"You're so hot like this." San grunted, the hand on your stomach sliding down to circle your clit. It stung, overstimulated, and you felt his dick pulsing; he was close too.

"One more for me precious, one more." He coached, then one, two, he came again. There was no more room inside you, the thick white jizz spilled over, mixing with the squirting slick and making yet again another mess on the floor. You both were panting, reveling in the afterglow, and sleep was trying to consume you once again. Later, you were mad at yourself, for not choosing San sooner. He should never have been the second choice.

Master-Master List

ATEEZ Master List

[ibbythebee]

Hospital Wing Hermits

gif credit: @handknit on wattpad

pairing: Neville Longbottom x year younger!reader

summary: From Neville's second year at Hogwarts to his last, his most memorable times with you have been spent in the hospital wing.

genre: fluffiness all round, slight angst at the end... but only a little, slow-burny

warnings: this fic is so soft that you will potentially combust, slight swearing, SO MUCH hand holding, the reader is an oblivious goofball until she's not, kissing, talks about illnesses and injuries, blood and boogers

words: 6k

masterlist

»»————-　⌁　————-««

Neville's 2nd Year

Clutching onto Madame Pomfrey is nothing new to Neville. In the middle of the night, however, is a different story. The Nurse coos whenever the boy makes the slightest sound of pain, holding him up as not to put anymore pressure on his right foot.

"We're just about there, dear. Come on, just a few more steps..."

Leading him to the middle of the hospital wing's room, she then guides him onto an untouched bed, and immediately slides a pillow underneath his ankle. A spot of light on the opposite side of the room does not go unnoticed to either the woman or boy as soon as they had entered the room.

Neville rubs his eyes, squinting at the strange glowing mound of sheets. He watches as, with a sigh, Madame Pomfrey marches to the other preoccupied bed and pulls over the white covers to reveal you, a sheepish looking girl.

Under the light of your wand, your face looks puffy, lips and nose chapped, hair amuck. You cough into your elbow and smile a toothy innocent smile, batting your big eyes at the woman, silently pleading your innocence.

Pomfrey, however, does not play games. "Turn off that incessant light, Miss L/N. Do you realise what time it is?"

Your lips shape into a pout, voice stuffy as you answer. "But Madame Pomfrey, it's so boring here. I'm bored."

"No, you should be asleep. Turn that off right now. I don't want to have to send another owl to your mother about you refusing medical help."

"Just a few more minutes please? I'll finish the page I'm reading."

"Absolutely not. It's basic manners and respect for your fellow peer." She motions to Neville, and you finally turn to him.

Despite the fatigue in your features, your eyes seem to glow, piercing through the dark room. Perhaps it's just his lack of sleep or absence of light, but there is something drawing him to you and he fails to look away. Nothing comes out of his mouth even though he knows he's probably supposed to greet you, but neither do you.

A second longer you stare at your new roommate and in eventual defeat, you pout. The light from your wand fades, as you mumble 'nox' under your breath and get comfortable under the blankets.

Satisfied, Madame Pomfrey clears the rubbish bin underneath your bed and turns back to Neville handing him a small flask of some sort of healing potion.

"All right. Off to bed now both of you. Good night, dears."

You both mutter a 'goodnight', closing your eyes, gingerly pulling the covers up to your chins.

It stays mostly quiet in the room, apart from the Nurse's shuffling. Though as time passes, shoes click and click away, and then the door creaks shut.

"Psst!"

Neville stirs.

"Hey, psst!"

"Huh?" Is all Neville can manage, lifting his head with a groggy squint.

"What happened to you?" You ask in a loud whisper and sniffle. Sitting straight, and staring right at him. Your eyes really are big, inquisitive.

"Well I... twisted my ankle," he finally says.

"How?"

"I... I'd rather not say. It's embarrassing, really."

"I won't tell anyone," you say as-a-matter-of-factly. "You can hex me if I do."

He looks at you through narrow eyes again and this time it's your teeth that glow. As you show no interest in falling asleep, Neville's neck admits defeat and his head crashes back down onto the pillow. "Can we just please go to sleep?"

"I caught a cold... or maybe a fever. Runny nose—" you sniff, wiping your face with your pajama sleeve "—wet cough, high temperature. My mum says I have a weak immune system."

"Well, that's not very good, is it?" He comments half-heartedly to the ceiling.

"No, it isn't."

Silence. For a moment, he believes that you've finally surrendered yourself.

"So how'd you twist your ankle in the middle of the night?"

Never mind.

"You don't seem like a rule-breaker," you say.

He carefully shuffles up to sit and sighs. Where on earth did you get your energy from? He hadn't met such a talkative first year before.

Neville takes a moment to answer, debating on whether or not you're harmless enough for him to be vulnerable. "I had a nightmare, okay? I fell off my bed and... landed badly."

"Well, that's not very good, is it?" You echo.

"No, it isn't."

Silence once again ensues, but this time Neville's ready for your chatterbox mouth.

"What's your name? I'm..." You suddenly stop and he nearly laughs when your silhouette jerks and you sneeze. It's loud, like his Gran.

"Nice to meet you, Achoo." He chuckles, holding a hand over his mouth.

You sniff again, face hot in a new wave of humiliation, and this time you wipe your face with more aggression. "Hey, that's not funny! My name is — A-ACHHHOO!"

"Isn't that what I just said?" He can't help but laugh again. Relishing in the groan you emit and how furiously you blow your nose.

With a poke of your tongue, you retort. "Whatever, Mr... mm... Fall-out-of-bed...n-nightmare-broken-ankle-boy."

"Wow, that's really fantastic, Achoo." He slides back down into his bed, closing his eyes with content and tries to hold in his giggles as you continue with determination to clear up your mistake.

Initially, Neville thought he wouldn't even be able to get in a nap, but now with the understanding that you bark more than you bite, he creates a silly image of you in the form of a puppy. As your voice rings in the background, the puppy image barks with you, and he feels his eyes grow heavy, falling into a content and nightmare-less sleep.

»»————-　⌁　————-««

Neville’s 4th Year

Ever since sleeping the night in the hospital wing, Neville knew he'd be seeing more of you. It was surprising to him that he hadn't noticed you before that night, especially seeing as you were such a social butterfly. And despite being in the year below, he'd always manage to catch your eyes in the Great Hall. And in the courtyard. And in the halls. And through a classroom window. You were everywhere and anywhere. And when you weren't, you were in bed in the hospital wing.

Just like you are now. The fourteen-year-old hadn't seen you for the past few weeks after the first task of the Triwizard Tournament, and needless to say, he had to see you.

And such a perfect opportunity had arose today, albeit a painful one, but an opportunity none the less.

Neville opens the door to the wing as gently as possible as not to wake you, however knowing you, you probably already were.

Entering the room, he clutches his sore hand to his ribs and cranes his neck to spot the nurse. Instead he finds your lying form under a mountain of blankets.

You stir, and Neville curses at his shoes for making so much noise. Sure, his intention of coming here was to see you, but he’d seldom seen you in such a peaceful state and didn’t want to ruin that for you.

“Neville?” He hears you say and then you’re facing him.

He smiles down at you, with a voice just as soft as silk. "Hey, Achoo. Didn't mean to wake you. How you feeling?”

“I’m feeling alright. Kinda headache-y, but fine. Ugh, what time is it?” You rub your eyes and stretch as you sit up.

The messiness of your bed-hair is incredibly endearing and the curve in Neville’s lips only grow at the sight.

“It’s third period.”

“Then… what are you doing here? Are you hurt?”

You’re suddenly on your feet, eyes round and wide, taking in the scene of the tall boy. He flinches, attempting to hide his hand in his robe sleeve.

You snatch his hand, bringing it close to your face. It’s a burn. All over the back of his palm. "Bloody hell— Where's Madame Pomfrey?"

"I was about to ask you the same question." A small chuckle falls from his lips as you examine him. Somehow, in some miracle he watches your big eyes grow larger as you twist his hand, move his long fingers to get as much information about his wound.

He feels like he’s going crazy, your touch is a new kind of burn on his skin. It doesn’t sting, but it is hot. And you don’t even know you’re causing it.

"She's always gone when you actually need her,” you huff.

"It's not as bad as it looks, really. Just hurts a little when I move it."

"What about when I...?" You drift off, as you slide a delicate thumb over his beet-red knuckles.

The tips of his ears turn the same shade of red. "Stings."

With no further words, he lets you pull him to one corner of the hospital wing, searching for a particular ointment on the many shelves of medical supplies. You don't let go of his hand, and he doesn't dare pull away.

"Let me guess how it happened—" you say, grabbing a round jar of blue gel to read the label.

"Seamus." You both state and then share a laugh.

Placing the jar back, you continue your search and Neville fills the comfortable silence. "It's Potions class. For once I thought I was doing pretty decent and then next thing I know, Seamus' cauldron blows up next to me and of course I get the damage."

His hand is held up to your face again and he watches as you grab a new jar with a less solid looking gel, creamy in colour.

"I suppose it's a good way for me to get out of the rest of the class," he shrugs.

"And get away from Snape," you quip and earn a chuckle from him. There was a time in Neville’s third year, when you had come to learn about his amusing boggart. He’d snuck into the hospital wing, claiming he had a nasty headache and ended up staying the night, neither of you getting a wink of sleep. It had also been revealed that the thing you were most frightened of was giants.

“Sit down,” your motioning to the mattress behind him.

He does so without question, still attached to you by your pinkie, making himself comfortable on the edge of a neatly tucked bed. He follows your every action as you place the ointment jar beside his thigh and open the lid. You scoop a teaspoon amount with your fingers and lifted his burnt hand again.

Before the cream touches his burn, you begin to tell him about what illness you've caught today and he barely feels the sting of the medicine. There's no better spell or potion to kill pain than your voice, that much was evident even back when he first met you.

Concentration laces your features and unbeknownst to you, your hips hit the edge of the mattress, unaware to the fact that Neville's knees are on either side of you.

The sight of you between him for some reason makes it difficult for him to swallow. The urge to trap you with his legs increases by the second. "Hey, Y/N?"

You wipe off excess ointment on your pajama top and turn your attention to him. He rarely called you by your first name. Something's up.

"Yeah?"

"Well, the erm... You know in a week or so?"

"Mhm?"

There's a pause as he searches your eyes for confidence, then he finally announces. "Would you say you're a good dancer?"

Creases form between your brows and you pout at the question, really thinking it over. If there was anything else Neville had learnt about you was that you always answered his queries with great interest and thought. You never treat his questions as though they're dumb, and he’s come to adore you for that.

As you ponder, he slides his non-burnt hand under yours, idly fiddling with your delicate fingers; tracing around the length of them, lifting them up and dropping them one by one, and eventually laying his palm flat on top of yours. Were his hands always this big?

The tips of your fingers tap-tap against his, as you finally answer. "I suppose... I would like to think I am."

"Well... that's good to hear."

"What about you?"

"Oh me?" He finds your face and swallows thickly. "I've been practicing lately, so I can only hope I've improved."

A giggle breaks free from your lips and it’s music to his ears. "Practicing? Whatever for?"

"The Yule Ball, of course."

"The..." The creases near your brows form again. "I've completely forgotten about that."

He squeezes a finger of yours. "So, no one's asked you yet?"

You sneeze into your elbow and then for a second time, and your voice becomes stuffy to the amusement of Neville. "Asked me what?"

"Asked you to be their date, of course."

"Oh. No." Scoffing. "Being stuck in here means no social-life. And besides—" You spin around quick to grab a roll of bandage, and gingerly flatten it over his burn "—who's gonna want to dance with someone who sneezes every five minutes?"

"I would."

"That's what I thought — wait... you would?"

In an effort to look nonchalant, Neville shrugs, finding interest in a bird that's flying near the window. The tips of his ears poking out of his shaggy hair are giving you a different response, they're blushing.

You finish with his wound and step away from the bed, fingers feeling cold when you let go of him.

Upon inspection of your medical handiwork, he smiles gently. He hadn't felt a thing. "Thanks for this."

"I... I can't guarantee that I'll be completely healthy that day," you say.

"The Yule Ball?"

You nod in an almost embarrassed way, as you fiddle with the collar of your sleeping clothes.

Neville just shakes his head. "The suit my Gran got for me has a lot of pockets so I’ll carry all your tissues for you. Or anything else you might need, I'll keep them for you."

"That'sssss.... ACHHU!"

"Bless you. So what do you say? Would you... want to go with me? Maybe? I promise not to step on your feet."

"Miss L/N?! What on earth are you doing out of bed?!"

"MADAME POMFREY!" You both exclaim, faces and necks feeling hot.

"Come on, dear, why don't you ever follow simple orders?!"

Mumbles of pathetic protest fall from your lips as the woman drags you back to the other side of the room. You knock into Neville’s knee on the way and so he’s quick to follow behind you with his own incoherent babble about the burn on his hand.

You're settled under the blankets once again and watch as the nurse's eyes bulge at the sight of the tall boy's perfectly cared for palm. She inspects the bandage, inquires about the pain and what the cause was, all while Neville can't keep the flushed look off his face.

"She— well... Y/N helped me out. It doesn't hurt anymore, I'm fine now, Ma'am."

As the said woman keeps a hold of his hand, she turns to you with daggers. "What did you use? A potion? Spell, perhaps? Mr Longbottom could have severe side-effects if you're not careful."

"He won't," you grin toothily as you did back in your first year and point to the shelf in the right corner. "I used the ointment that you gave Theodore Nott not that long ago. Haha, Nott not."

Neville stifles a laugh, and isn't surprised when the nurse doesn't question you further. You might be the only student that can get away with arguing with Madame Pomfrey.

The nurse's face instead takes the form of an appreciative and impressed expression. It's only natural that with your ‘weak immune system’, you've gained as much medical knowledge as you have colds and flus.

"I'll admit, you've done a splendid job with Neville. However, you simply cannot use whatever you like, whenever you like, on whomever you like. Next time this happens you need to wait for me to return, alright? Is that understood?"

Taking a glance at Neville's sheepish state, you sigh and nod in response.

"And Neville dear, don't encourage this behaviour. Especially not from Miss L/N."

"Okay, Ma'am."

She gives the boy a goodbye and immediately turns to you, a full on lecture spilling from her mouth. He isn’t supposed to leave yet, not when he’s just finally had the courage to ask you out.

Neville finds your helpless gaze behind the woman’s shoulder, and sends you a sad sort of smile before turning on his heel to get to the door.

"I-I'll go with you!" You yell.

The tall boy pauses, heart flipping at your words.

"To the Yule Ball."

There’s no stopping the grin that forms, and he finally nods after a second, hair shaking with the action.

Your eyes speak to him as your own smile appears.

Meanwhile, the woman huffs and puffs, cleaning the area around your bed. "Not in this state, you won't."

»»————-　⌁　————-««

Neville's 5th Year

The last time Neville was in the hospital wing, he'd come to talk to you about his recent endeavours in Herbology and let slip that he's been secretly practicing defensive magic with a group of other students, being taught by none other than Harry himself. There was no doubt that you would also be trusted enough to join, however seeing as you were once again bed-ridden, it felt best to keep it a secret until you got better.

Now it wasn't a secret anymore, and each time he'd visit you'd ask him to put in a good word with Harry, with the group. Neville always said he would, but he never did, fearing that Professor Umbitch would eventually catch onto you and you'd have to pay the ultimate price.

Karma is an Umbitch, however, and now it looks as if the only answer to Neville's current predicament is to let you join Dumbledore's Army, despite all his worries and his efforts to stop you from doing that.

Today’s DA training has been cut short, due to the fact that the fifteen-year old is now incapacitated. Blood refusing to slow down from his nose.

Going to Madame Pomfrey would've required him to come up with a believable story as to what happened, so the next best thing was to send for you, someone who already knows about this secret group.

"Neville!" A Ravenclaw boy shouts, interrupting his thoughts. "Your Bogey Bug is here— ow!"

Someone smacks the kid, and then suddenly the Weasley twins are leading you into the Room of Requirement. You stand over him, adorning new pajamas he hadn't seen before.

"Hey Achoo," he weakly smiles. "Thanks for coming."

The DA gather around, as you crouch to his side and immediately take the cloth he's been holding to his nose. You make a face at him. “Oh Neville… what are we going to do with you?”

A fresh line of blood rolls down to his lip, so you let him leave the fabric there to sink it in.

"Keep your head steady, okay? Don't lean back, just let the blood flow for now."

"I think my nose might be broken?"

"Neville, I swear to..." your head spins sharply, and a few students flinch. "Who did this?"

"We were practicing stupefy," the familiar voice of Seamus answers and immediately your tense shoulders relax seeing his face emerge behind the twins. "I didn't mean to. I swear, Y/N."

"He really didn't mean to," Neville echoes.

You sneeze into your elbow and shake your head, palm making contact with your cheek. "See, this is why you should’ve told me about this secret army group thing so I could've joined and stopped something like this from happening.”

"I'm sorry."

You take Neville's hand again and lift the cloth, checking over the damage. There is damage, alright. You try not to make a show of wincing, fearing that the brown-haired boy would get anxious by your reaction, but his nose really does look quite out of sorts. Out of line. Broken.

He realises you haven't said a word in a while and smiles again, "you can fix, can't you, Achoo?"

"I told Neville I could treat him, but he kept refusing and insisted for your presence," Luna's soft voice interrupts as she crouches down beside you.

Someone amongst the crowd starts to coo and the tips of Neville's ears manage to turn beet red, more so when you turn your attention to him, expression unreadable.

Luna carries on, eyes focused on you. "He wouldn't let anyone touch him. Not until now, anyway."

"Okay!" A sudden clap startles even Luna, and you all turn to the perpetrator. Harry Potter's back is turned to your direction as he addresses the crowd, "I think we'll call it a day. Neville needs his strength and so do you."

The crowd murmurs, exchanging pouts and disappointed shrugs.

"Be proud of yourselves, you all did brilliantly today. Each and every one of you have improved. Next time we get to meet we'll continue with the Patronus Charm."

"What about Bogey Bug? How do we know she's not gonna rat us out?" A girl in Hufflepuff asks.

Neville sees you stand up, slapping a hand over your chest. "I swear on my life and the life of Neville—."

"Hey!"

"—that I will not snitch on this group or expose any of you. I promise to be loyal and keep my mouth shut about this."

Some faces don't seem convinced, as more murmurs and chatter erupt.

"She can be our nurse!" Neville exclaims, stealing everyone's attention. It's time to put in that good word for you. "We won't have to go to the hospital wing if Achoo— I mean, Y/N is here. She's really good at what she does. Plus, I accidentally told her about the army about a month ago and she hasn't told a soul since. I do..."

Your big eyes soften when he turns to you.

"...I trust her with my life."

"All right then," Harry claps once more. "All those in favour of Y/N becoming part of the army, raise your hand."

A few hands come up, whilst others whisper for a moment. One more, then four more, and then more hands raise faster than you can count them. You and the broken-nosed boy share grins, as you squeeze his free hand.

"That's it then. Y/N, welcome to Dumbledore's Army."

»»————-　⌁　————-««

Neville’s 6th year

Following the events of the previous year of school you and Neville had grown ever closer. Outside of the classroom you'd never be seen without the other. Inseparable. There'd even been a rumour going around that you were dating, but you always denied such claims and Neville could only comply. He hadn't yet told anyone about his feelings for you, although it seemed that those in his close circle were figuring it out on their own.

After having looked like a lost pygmy puff in the Great Hall, Luna found Neville and mentioned to him that you looked 'out of sorts' during class. He hadn't even asked about you. She just knew to tell him.

So, it’s only fitting for him to be by your side now, during lunch hour.

You’re shivering underneath all the sheets and blankets, and yet as Neville glides the back of his fingers across your forehead, you’re sweating as well.

“Hang in there Achoo, you’ll be fine in no time. The spell will take effect.”

You can only give so much as a nod, and groan when your lower abdomen tightens with a deep, stabbing ache.

“Shh,” Neville smooths his delicate fingers over your forehead again, tucking loose strands back to their place with the rest of your hair. “I'm here. Do you want me to distract you with anything?"

"Anything," you squeak, eyes shut tightly as if doing that would stop your cramps and make you fall asleep faster. "Please."

"Alright, erm..." He slides his tongue over his bottom lip and leans in closer to you, elbow pressing into the mattress. "I suppose I can tell you about a dream I had not long ago. You were in it."

"The Hippogriff one?" You tremble.

"No, this is a new one," he smiles when you meet his gaze, finding your fingers peeking through the sheets and taking them into his hands. "It's really stupid, as dreams usually go, but I really like it."

Your fingers are stretched out, as Neville begins to trace over your palm. First he draws a circle and you giggle a little at the feeling.

"This is me," he draws a triangle, "and this is you. It seems like any ordinary day, except you and I have the same classes. In the dream we're both popular. Everyone cheers for us when we get good marks, and even Professor Snape smiles at you."

"No way."

He laughs and traces a shape with lots of spikes. "Yes way. It really seems too good to be true, because there's even a moment where we successfully sneak out at night, we're just in our pajamas and we're watching the stars from the astronomy tower."

"I'm waiting for the 'but'."

"But — here comes the stupid part — you just start flying out of nowhere. One second you're next to me, the next you're just in the sky. I'm freaking out trying to reach for your hand, but you're just so calm about the fact that you mysteriously gained the ability to fly."

You're giggling again, especially as he slaps your palm a few times to emphasise the story. "Accurate reaction."

"And then it just ends with me being able to breath fire."

"What?" You laugh, brows pulling together in amusement. "I wonder what Professor Trelawney would say about that. What all of it might represent."

He draws a line on each of your fingers, slow and tickly. "If it's anything like I've been told before, it probably means bad luck."

"Well I was also in the dream with you, so we'll go through the bad luck together." To his surprise, you thread your fingers through his and squeeze. You're not trembling anymore, you haven't been for the past minute or so, and it doesn't feel like you're being stabbed over and over in the stomach.

"Think you can sleep now?" He asks, fingers hesitantly unravelling.

You nod, grinning at him, those eyes of yours finally shining as bright as they usually do.

"Want me to go get Madame Pomfrey?"

You shake your head. And then your arms are around his neck, head tucked in the space between your bicep and his jawline.

It feels like a millennium till he returns your gesture, arms securing around your waist and back, pulling you in tightly and desperately. The mix of the wing's clinical scent and the smell of baked desserts fills his nose. He could've sworn he'd smelt something like this during Potions class.

"Stay with me," you purr. "Please."

He knows he has class in ten minutes, he knows he can't skip, he knows he'll get in trouble.

So with your arms determined to remain wrapped around each other he bends over, moving till your head meets the pillow. He kicks off one of his school shoes. Then the other.

You feel his knees dip into the mattress beside your thighs, and then you have to part for a moment as he slips under the blankets, his head settling on the pillow right beside yours.

When he's comfortable, you take one of his hands and lower it until he brushes over your clothed belly.

Keeping the heat from entering his ears and cheeks is impossible, as his hand flattens over your stomach, shock evident in his features from your bold action.

"Could you keep it there?" You say, when you feel his uncertainty. "It'll help if the cramps come back." Your own hands smooth over his, trapping him there.

"I will." He swallows thickly. "Are you comfortable?"

You nod. "Are you?"

"Absolutely. Yes. I am."

A content breath passes your lips and you smile, all giddy like, at the ceiling. "Thank you for being here. For being with me always. For not making fun of me being sick all the time. Not calling me Bogey Bug. For... for just being you. For being my most favourite person ever."

"I could really say the same about you." Both your voices are barely above a whisper, seeing as your faces are so close together.

"Thanks Neville," you turn to him, and tap the back of his hand on your belly.

You stare at each other for a moment, and for some reason it doesn't feel wrong. It's not awkward.

Neville breaks the silence. "You... you know how everyone keeps saying that we're... you know going out?"

"Yeah."

Neville pauses for a second, you're staring so intensely, pupils large and beautiful. He tries to swallow past the lump in his throat and squeezes the material of your clothes. He can talk to you, he can ask you the question. He's battled against Bellatrix Lestrange before, he's been put in Gryffindor for a reason. He can ask you. "What do you say we make those rumours... not rumours anymore?"

The corners of your mouth twitch. "You-You mean... you mean like...?"

"Yes. Like that. Like... I want to spend the rest of my life with you, sort of way."

You don't say anything.

He continues, with a small bite of his lip. "Like... I'm completely mad for you and if I don't tell you now I don't think I'll ever get the chance to again."

"This... isn't a dream, is it?"

"Can I prove to you this isn't a dream?"

"Okay."

And it really feels like a dream, as his face leans in and you feels his lips press against the corner of your mouth.

"Did that help?" he whispers.

You twist around to lay on your side, guiding Neville's big hand up to your waist. "You missed, Neville."

"What?"

"You missed."

This time you both lean in, and this time Neville doesn't miss.

»»————-　⌁　————-««

Neville’s 7th year

The last Horcrux has been destroyed, Voldemort's killed, the Death Eaters have fled. New life has been brought to Hogwarts, sun pooling through the shattered windows of the Great Hall.

People sit on broken stools, torn and ashy blankets, chatter quiet and solemn. A few people manage to tell jokes and liven the mood, others cuddle, kiss, crying tears of relief. Nurses scamper around tending to the badly wounded.

Only...

As Neville limps his way through the hall he desperately scans over the crowds only to realise you're not here. You're not by Madame Pomfrey. You're not by Luna either. Neville finds Ginny's tired but hopeful figure and before he can tap her shoulder, she's already turned to him with a gentle smile.

She shakes her head before he even has a chance to speak. "I haven't seen Y/N. Not since... well not since she took care of Freddie. 'M sorry Neville."

"No," he shakes his head and gives the girl a gentle hug when her voice wavers and her bottom lip quivers. "No, I'm sorry."

"You helped kill Voldemort. That's hardly anything to be sorry for," she smiles again as they part, softly pushing at his shoulder to leave. To keep searching for you. "Don't worry, I'll keep an eye out for her."

Neville sends her a purposeful nod and turns to leave, the sword of Gryffindor still snug in his hand. At times he uses the weapon as a crutch, the pain in his everything starting to take a toll as previous rushes of adrenaline begin to fade. The only thing keeping him going is the thought of you. You and your sneezes, your messy hair, your often nasally voice, your big eyes and equally big grins. You.

He passes what looks to be remnant of the hospital wing's door, merely a pile of wood chips and metal beams now. He hears the distant tweet of a bird, the pitter-patter of loose rubble and someone's sneeze.

The sword clangs to the ground and he's sprinting. Neville rounds the corner of the entrance to the wing and he stops, breath heavy, vision blurry.

You're there, and you're already staring at him, your grin so large and your eyes even more so and you're holding onto something familiar.

"N-Neville?" your voice is soft and so stuffy and gorgeous.

"Achoo, good Godric." His sore legs carry him to your side, and you're running toward him, arms open. And then you jump and he completely forgets about how much pain he's in when he catches you.

You cling to his sweater, to his shoulders, to his neck, to his waist, squeezing him with every bit of strength you've got left.

He's grasping at your hoody, your waist, your hair, your skin, he's touching all of you, scared that if he'll let go you won't be there anymore.

"I love you so much," he says through a trembling voice.

You pull away slightly and return your feet to the ground, legs unwrapping from his hips. You crane your neck to kiss his jaw, and then you kiss his cheek and his other and then finally his lips. And it sets your heart on fire, full of adoration and care and relief. You don't ever want to stop feeling him here, his supple lips against yours, especially as his hands cup your jaw, reeling you in for more and more.

"I love you Neville," you cry when you finally have to pull away to catch your breaths. "Ever since I first met you. You and your twisted ankle."

He chuckles, tenderly wiping a tear from the apple of your cheek with his thumb. He scans over the room for a moment, as he feels your fingers come to dance over the dry trail of blood from his head wound.

"I don't think we're ever gonna leave this place," he says with a caress of your jaw.

Following his gaze, you giggle. Those beds you spent countless nights on, those countless concoctions and medical supplies you've had used on you, they're all here, scattered and battered around the room.

"That's why I came here instead of the Hall," you say, keeping one arm around your boyfriend's waist and unravelling the other to reveal an intact jar of creamy coloured ointment. "I'm so sorry, I must've scared you nuts."

"Scared me to death more like, but all I had to do was listen out for your sneezes. Turns out it isn't that hard to find you."

You poke your tongue out and he laughs. "That's so embarrassing. Always comes back to me being a Bogey Bug."

"Yeah," he smoothly pulls you in for an ardent kiss, "my Bogey Bug."

"You know what else I am?"

You're leaning against his arms that are wrapped around you and he watches as you take off the lid of the jar. Just like his fourth year, you use your fingers to scoop up a teaspoon of the cream.

"What? What else are you?"

You step out and take one of his hands, letting his palm sit over the top of yours. And then the cream is applied over the burns on the back of his hands. In spite of these burns looking way worse than his wound from Potions class back in his fourth year, the pain is still barely felt once the ointment's smoothed over. What's also killing the sting is looking at your breathtaking eyes. He's lost in them, distracted completely.

"I'm also your nurse," you finally say, wiping the excess over your hoody.

Neville's mouth curls into a smirk, snaking his arms around you again and pressing your bodies tightly together. "Well, nurse. My lips are feeling kind of sore, do you think you can fix them?"

You hum, eyes twinkling with mischief as your hands link behind his neck.

His gaze dips to your mouth, trying to fight the heat flowing to his cheeks and ears. There will never be a time when you won't make him nervous and giddy.

You mirror his action, eyes taking their time stare at his lips. "You know what, darling? I think I've got just the thing for you."

[jqyszn]

Like what you see?💤

paring: dom!bestfriend!sunghoon x sub!fem!reader

genre: smut, friends to lovers (mdni !!)

summary: in which you come home to find your best friend getting off, weird but it's natural right? not until you heard him calling out for you.

warnings: smut ofc, masturbating, unprotected sex (don’t be a prick, wrap your dick!!) , panty stealing… riding, body worship, fingering, biting, degradation, spitting, marking, squirting, profanity, dirty talk, pet names (slut, cum dump, princess), breeding kink, sunghoon is a perv,, this is honestly just pure filth too😭 (Imk if i missed anything!!)

wc: 1.5k (1,597)

a/n: this is my first fic (😭) i apologize in advance for the cringe wattpad like writing,, also english isn’t my first language so please ignore any grammar mistakes <3 i hope u guys enjoy and im so sorry for the wait like i don’t know why it took me like three weeks to make a 1.5k fic😭😭😭 i promise for my other works they will be more hastily written🩷🩷

taglist: @lelelelelelenim @iamkali @jjonghoonist @ramenoil @deobitifull @velathaheigeros @enhaz1 @thinaswreck @heeseungsslutt @cherriruto @yohanabanana @hvnyujiq @fightqueen @parkhonnie (some of the tags aren’t working so i’m so deeply sorry for everyone who asked and isn’t here </3)

“can i come over?” you read the writing on your phone as you best friend sunghoon messaged you. “yea, sure :) i’m still at work though but you have the extra key anyway.” you replied to him putting down your phone and typing away at your computer. your phone buzzes once again but desperate to rest, you ignore it and continue working.

on the other hand, sunghoon is at your door in a heartbeat. he unlocks the door with ease, walking in, the smell of you instantly hitting him. he inhaled your lingering scent as he closes his eyes imagining him nuzzling into your neck, pounding into you, taking in the smell of your natural perfume. “fuck.” sunghoon groans as his cock starts to feel heavy.

he makes his way towards your room, your scent growing more intense as he groans internally. “what are you doing to me y/n?” he thinks about his morals for a minute before diving into your laundry basket, picking up a used lace thong. he curses at himself but he doesn’t stop. instead he goes on your bed and propped himself up nice and pretty.

he holds your panty in his left hand bringing it closer to his face as he takes a fat whiff of you as he threw his head back. his other hand starts palming his refined boner as he continues sniffing at your undergarment. he pulls down his sweats down to his knees along with his boxers, freeing his hardened member. “oh god..” he grunts as he drapes your thong over his leaking, pink tip. staining it with his glossy precum.

unbeknownst to him, you’re already back home taking off you heels. “hoon?” you call out neatly tucking away your shoes as you make your way to your room. “fuck yes y/n, you’re taking my cock in so good~” did you hear that right? you stopped in your tracks thinking there must be someone else in your room. scared, you peep your head in your doorway, looking ahead into your room.

and to your surprise, it’s sunghoon. pumping his cock furiously, his eyebrows furrowed, lip bitten, hair sticking to his sweaty forehead and your thong over his length. fuck he looked so hot. you always had a thing for sunghoon but not wanting to ruin your friendship, you kept it to yourself and your trusted diary. you can’t help but clamp your legs together, almost moaning at the sight.

you decided to test your faith, so you walked over infront of your bed. “shit y/n! your pussy is so fucking tight princess!” sunghoon whimpers out, he opens his eyes only to see you. standing infront of him, arms crossed and face flushed with a crimson tone. “like what you see doll?” sunghoon smirks not showing one bit of embarrassment. instead, a sense of pride.

“i.. uhm..” you stutter shocked by the lack of embarrassment he showed on his face. “you love it huh? watching your best friend fuck himself with your skimpy thong? huh? look at you. i bet you’re all soaking wet from watching me pump my cock for you isn’t that right, slut?” he whispered, walked over to you, leaning down into your ear moaning playfully as he nibble on your earlobe.

“ahh.. hoon..” you whimper at his words, his hands trailing up and down your body stopping where you wanted him the most. “shit. no panties? do you really are just a slutty whore aren’t you? practically begging any man to cream your pussy right? you better fucking stop. because this tight, wet, creamy cunt is all mine. understood?” he degrades as he slaps your warmth, making you jerk forward as you nod your head in response.

“use your words doll. you know i hate stupid little whores.” he orders rubbing circles into your clit making you moan and clinging onto sunghoon’s broad shoulders. “you’re gonna let me breed your sopping pussy yeah? fill you up with my babies to show everyone who you belong to right?” he mutters over your neck, sucking and biting marks all over your neck. “yes hoon.. i’m all yours.” you finally managed to moan out.

“good girl.. now come here.” sunghoon ordered as he picked you up effortlessly, slamming you down on his lap earning a yelp from you. “may i?” he asks for your consent before stripping you to which you consented. “oh fuck doll, you’re gorgeous.” sunghoon admires your soft skin, rolling his fingers over your nipples licking his lips. “feels good hoon~” you whine out bucking your hips into his. “i know pretty girl..” he coos a finger teasing at your wet hole, him waiting for a reaction.

“hoon please.. i want you.” you whimper grinding on his fingers as he smiles in satisfaction. “beg for it then. tell me how much you want me to fuck you dumb.” he grins looking down at you and watching your face contort from the feeling of his long and slender fingers sliding into your core. “i want you to fuck me until i can’t walk anymore.. i need your cum in me hoon. i need it so so bad!” you squeal at the sensation of his fingers going in and out of my sopping cunt. wet, gushing sounds reverberating around the room. “good girl..” he grunts, speeding up his pace.

you feel a familiar knot in your abdomen, panting uncontrollably as you arch your back, “fuck hoon i’m close..!” you whimper, him smirking back at your call as he continues to finger you in the ‘come here’ motion. “cum for me then slut.” he commands as you release on his fingers. the sight was so dirty, your squirt soaking his fingers and your sheets, his mouth sucking your juices off you and you arching your back, your mouth forming an ‘o’ shape.

“fuck,, you’re such a slut huh?” he teases, pulling his digits out of you and shoves them in your mouth. “now suck.” he commands, to which you obey. swirling your tongue around his fingers coating them in your saliva. his cock twitches at the sight, sunghoon wanted to absolute ruin you.

sunghoon sat comfortably on the bed patting his bare thighs, “come here.” he commanded, smirking at you. “what are you waiting for? is it because i’m not heeseung?” he gritted his teeth, the flashback of you giving heeseung a lap dance engraved in his mind wishing it was him you were grinding all up on. “no.. it’s not that” you mutter out quietly, crawling to sunghoon straddling him.

“what is it then? hm?” he caressed your thighs softly, looking at you expectantly. “it’s just.. i’ve been waiting for this since we became friends hoon..” you ground your hips down on his throbbing length, smiling at him softly. His eyes darkened at your words as he tightened his grip on your hips, pushing you down onto his lap roughly, feeling your wet pussy sliding along his engorged cock. "oh is that so? enjoying yourself aren’t you?" he smirked at you once again.

He grabs you by the hair and pulls your face close to his, thrusting his tongue into your mouth, kissing you with a deep passion as his cock twitches against your slick hot cunt. you kiss him back passionately moaning into the kiss. “trust me doll, you’re gonna forget who heeseung even is after i fuck you dumb.” he growls as he grabbed onto your hips pulling you towards himself forcefully slamming his cock deep inside your tiny hole stretching it wide "fuck... yes.... fuck..!" he grunts.

“you’re so fucking big hoon~!” you whine out watching him slowly thrust in and out of you. “i know doll, i know.” he replies cockily while grunts he slams himself against you harder, grabbing your breasts roughly and squeezing them, feeling your nipples get rock hard under his fingers as he continued to slam into you, using you like a toy as he pounded you relentlessly. you moan his name like a mantra, completely fucked out.

“yeah that’s it. moan my name like a whore. you’re all mine understand?” he glared at you waiting for your answer. “yes hoon! i’m all yours!” you pant out, bouncing up and down on his girthy cock, your cunt convulsing around his length. he smirked proudly, thrusting himself deeper inside you until he was buried completely within you. "that's right, doll. cum all over my fucking dick." He whispered huskily, grabbing onto your hips tightly as he began pounding away at you mercilessly, driving you crazy with desire.

“shit hoon i’m cumming!” you scream, feeling yourself come undone. a thick, creamy gloss ring coats the base of his dick, dripping down onto his thighs. “can i cum in you doll?” he asks for permission as you nod your head, “yes yes yes! cum in me sunghoon! i want your load in me so bad!” you beg, your body shaking from the stimulation your yet receiving.

“so fucking good, all wet and creamy all just for me.” he grunts as he finally shoots his milky, thick load inside of you. guiding your hips as he rides out his high. he pulls out of you, you whining at the emptiness. “look. watch my seed drip out of you.” he orders as you watch his gooey cum trickle from your well fucked hole down onto the sheets.

“are you gonna give me aftercare or are you gonna be a dickhead?” you cocked an eyebrow

“only if you be mine forever.” he smirked jokingly, getting towels to clean you off.

“i’ve always been yours.”

[kromeihl]

I love you and this idea!!! Wanna read a fic of him on wattpad?

-> https://www.wattpad.com/story/372279946?utm_source=ios&utm_medium=link&utm_content=story_info&wp_page=story_details&wp_uname=kromeihl

Reqs are open ;)

REVEALED

-> KENJI SATO x READER

WARNING(s): NOT PROOFREAD.

[Name]’s phone rings, Kenji glancing at it as they both were seated on his couch. You were staying at Kenji’s place for a while, he needed help with a baby kaiju, and you were the only friend he had.

You answered the phone, keeping your voice quiet so it wouldn’t disturb him. Kenji noticed how you moved your body away from him, why did you have to? Was the phone call that much of a secret to keep away from him? He sighs, looking back at the drink he held. Yes, the one he judged, saying it tasted like fart.

“Right, I’ll see you right now. I’m free, let’s eat?” His ears perk up at your voice, he was about to look but he didn’t, just so you wouldn’t think of making your voice more quiet. He decided to eavesdrop a bit more, it wouldn’t hurt, right?

“I know, I don’t say this a lot but, I love you. Stay safe, I’ll be there.”

You finally ended the call, starting to get up. Kenji couldn’t understand right now, who was that? You said the three golden words to someone on the phone, and he doesn’t know who it was. Yeah, he takes it back, eavesdropping hurt this time.

He watches as you face him, his eyes wide open but he snaps off from the state of shock as you speak, your voice he loves hearing so much. “Kenji, I’ll be going out for a while, I’ll be back soon!” You say, rushing to the glass elevator. He stares in confusion, why were you such in a hurry?

“Mina.” He calls out, his robotic friend floats all the way to him. “Yes, Ken?” She replies, “Can you keep an eye on her? I need to go out.” Kenji glances at the baby kaiju which was sleeping. Mina nods at his request, telling him not to worry.

…

I arrive at 5/6/7, noticing the man that called me a while ago, seated from not so far. I walk to him, sitting at his side. “I missed you, brother. I’m glad you decided to come back to Japan.” You spoke up first, him glancing at you. “I missed you, too. Have you been doing well? Has someone been taking care of you?” He asked, making you smile softly. “Ever heard of a guy named Kenji Sato?”

Kenji was on his way to the convenience store, he followed you from afar. He finally arrived, walking over to the nearby shelves where your table was located.

“Kenji? Hilarious!” The man laughed, to him it sounded like he was mocking him, THE Kenji Sato.

“I can’t last a day with him.” You laugh back. Kenji stood there frozen, unable to move or speak, he felt his heart break at the sight of you and the other man laugh about him. Was this the feeling.. of betrayal and heartbreak?

He silently walks away, eyes still wide and heart beating fast as he exits the convenience store.

“Seriously? That sounds mean.” Your brother giggled, “No, no, I meant I can’t last a day with him not being by my side, he’s the best.” You continue, your laughter dying down. Your brother gave a small, soft smile. “I appreciate this Kenji Sato guy, I’m glad he makes you feel special.

…

“Kenji, I’m home!” I call out, not hearing anything but silence. I close the door behind me, walking towards the couch. “He is in his room, sleeping.” I could hear Mina’s voice echo through the room. “Thank you, Mina.”

A few days turned into weeks, and he was ignoring me completely. It started after that day. Whenever I try to speak to him or ask him why he was ignoring me, he would ignore or simply say he’s “busy.”

I could only feel my frustration worsen, finally bursting today. “Kenji, God, just speak to me will you?!” You say angrily, following him as he walks through his basement, the baby Kaiju simply clueless by what’s happening.

“Mina, park, please.” Slowly the room turns into a park, he was clearly ignoring me! “Kenji!” I glare at him, practically whining at this point. He continues to walk away, grabbing a bat. He was about to swing before you stood exactly in front of him.

He froze, dropping the bat in defeat. “What did I do, huh? You’ve been ignoring me for the past few days!” I yell, Mina removing the park hologram, distancing herself to give us some space. “I—“ Before he was about to speak you completely cut him off.

“If you’re thinking of an apology, I will not accept it!” You say angrily, “[Name], seriously—“ “You are just speaking to me now?! I need a proper explanation, Kenji!” You step towards him, he was not moving an inch.

“[Name]..”

“You made me worry so bad!”

“[Name]…” His impatience growing louder.

“You wouldn’t talk to me at all, huh?”

“[Name].” He says in a frustrated tone.

“What did I do—“

“[Name]!” He finally snaps, making you go silent.

“Gosh, I like you, okay?! That’s all you need! I— I saw you with this guy and the way you talked to him on the phone annoyed me! You were giving me hints or small hopes that you like me then you just completely replace me with another guy like that, huh? I was just so confused with what I felt, I had the urge to ask you who it was and if I knew, IF I knew, it would be your lover, then I’d hurt even more!” He says, finishing off his sentence with a sigh.

You stood there in silence, realizing his confession later.. “Ken.. That was my brother.” That was all you had to say, a wave of relief finally washing over him. But he felt his heart drop as well, feeling embarrassed. “I.. Really?” He looks at you in disbelief making you burst out in laughter.

He could only pout, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “It’s not funny!” He groans, making you wipe a tear off of your eye. “I like you too, Ken.” You reply, earning a shock face from him. “But, you did totally ignore me.” You cross your arms, rolling your eyes playfully.

You could feel arms wrap around your waist, making you look straight at him, he pulls you close, melting in his touch. He slowly leans in closer, giving that cocky smirk of his. “Would this make it up to you, then..?” He says in a husky voice, leaning close to you as he places his lips on yours.

Well, it sure did.

[alphabetboyluvr]

once the thrill expires | jjk

title credit: cardigan - taylor swift

pairing: college!jungkook x female reader

synopsis:

your housemate-turned-fwb takes another girl home after a night out

warnings: angsty, smutty turmoil. it's not that bad, but it definitely isn't a happy lil number. fingering, oral sex (f receiving), rimming (f receiving), vaginal sex, doggy, protected (!!) sex, lil spanks, jaykay sorta makes out with her ear???, jaykay is a fawk boy who needs to learn self-control, oc is holding out for something that'll never happen, multiple partners in one night (jk), jk calls the reader diz (dizzy)

wordcount: 5.8K

note from holly: virgo boy trauma for you in the form of a jk one shot lmao. it's rare you get virgo boy shit laid this bare but he he i love oversharing on the internet! there's an old paragraph from yet another virgo boy fic hidden in here, too so if you think it looks familiar, that'll be why!!

minors dni // cross posted to wattpad

The knock on your en-suite bathroom door comes as a surprise. 

The subsequent twist of the lock mechanism from a coin wedged in the bolt on the other side does not. 

There’s only one person it would be.

And so you don’t yell. Don’t tell him to go away, even if you do hug your legs into your chest a little tighter. 

Sitting on the floor of your shower, dignity is preserved - but with skin as red as the flags that Jungkook freely hands you, and mascara staining your cheeks from the onslaught of piping hot water showering down on you, how dignified can you really be?

No words are spoken as the steam billows from the room, Jungkook not caring to shut the door behind himself. He takes a perch on the closed lid of the toilet, elbows to his knees, tattooed hands clasped beneath his chin. Refuses to look anywhere other than you.

There’s perplexion to his taut jaw - a frown embedded in his brows - but more than anything, there’s an overwhelming sense of confusion in his soft eyes. You’re unaware of the way he’s mirroring your expression back at you; how defeated you look, wet hair sticking to the side of your face, an emptiness in your gaze that is pale in comparison to the void in your chest.

With nothing but the pitter-patter of your shower to fill the space, you’re thankful that he can’t hear the way your heart is beating, or how you’re sniffing back the tears you were freely crying before he arrived.

“Jem messaged me,” he eventually says, quiet beneath the sound of the water. Leaning back, he wipes a palm over his face, then pushes it back into his dishevelled hair. Lets his hand fall between his legs, then shrugs as he looks at you as if to say, 'Don’t look at me like that' or 'It’s not my fault.'

And realistically, you know that it isn’t. Whatever he’s done is within the parameters of what was agreed upon. The way you feel - like Jungkook has stolen the moon and stopped the tides from turning - is not.

It’s not like either of you had ever expected to let things get this far, and definitely not for this long.

What had started as quiet kisses in the corners of clubs when your friends weren’t looking, had catapulted into drunken hook-ups after those aforementioned nights out. 

He’d call you Dizzy, ‘cause he was convinced you looked at him like you’d been spinning in circles, all awe-struck and smiley. Pretty. Like a giggle was on the tip of your tongue at all times.

Was easy, back then. Convenient. He was newly single. Not looking for anything. 

You’d been quietly harbouring an illicit crush on him from the day you moved into your shared university accommodation. Had been waiting for the stars to align - and once they had, you were certain that soulmates had to exist.

It’s the only way you can explain the small earthquake that happened half the world away at the very time you first met, the tectonic plates shifting to make sure you were perfectly presented to one another. 

You didn’t feel the tremors - would have been impossible - but your heart certainly felt something. Adrenaline? Limerence? You’re not sure.

Whatever it was only became more and more prevalent with every tipsy hold of his hand on the way to clubs, or moments stolen in secrecy in the house you now share with six of your friends. 

Now in your final year of university, if you spent as much time studying, as you do fretting over Jungkook - what he’s up to, who he’s with - maybe you’d get a first-class degree.

You’re on track for a 2:1.

He’s on track for a first, though. 

You choose to believe it’s because he’s naturally more academically inclined (as if you didn’t write an entire paper for him last semester), and not because he spends significantly less time thinking about you.

There’s no need for endless thoughts, though. 

The arrangement is simple: You’re friends. 

Best friends. Spend all your time together. Are plus ones to events. Fill the void that a partner should fill; at the winter balls, cinema screenings you don't want to see alone, and in the hushed privacy of midnight intimacy. He gets you off when you need it, and you him. 

Kisses are never shared between lips - apart from that one summer when he accidentally said he was in love with you, then took it back a week later under the guise of not wanting to ‘ruin’ the friendship. 

You don’t speak about that summer.

Hook-ups are in your room, always, ‘cause you’ve only got Jem in the room next door. Jungkook’s room is up on the middle floor, surrounded by all the boys. They’d realise what’s going on far too quickly.

It’s simple - yet excruciatingly complicated when there’s a lack of commitment, and Jungkook looks at you in the way that he does. 

His lips are a little deeper than their usual pink this evening, but you put it down to alcohol. 

Denial is a wonderful thing, and delusion even greater.

Still, he leans forward to push the shower door open. Leans further still, then knocks the tap off. Lets the water trickle down the drain, the hum of the pipes murmuring like your unspoken grievances. 

Rivulets of water chase down your skin. Jungkook watches one race from your knee to your ankle, running straight over the bruises from messy nights out and the small cut at the bottom of your calf from the fountain you’d both traipsed through when you were a little too merry a few nights prior. 

He’d given you a piggyback the entire way home, blood staining the white of his shirt; the very essence of you embedded now in the fabric of him. 

He’d patched you up after you got home. Showered with you, right here, then carried you the measly five or six steps to your bed. Had told you that you’d definitely get sepsis and die. Kissed it better, then decided he didn’t know any better, and trailed his lips up your leg. Took pity on your impending death and gave you a little, lovely death just to soften the blow. 

Funny, how you think sepsis would be preferable over whatever the fuck it is that you’re feeling now.

“Jem messaged me,” he repeats. Presses his lips together, the ring in the corner of his mouth glistening under the white lights of the bathroom.  “Said I should check on you. Been in the shower for an hour, apparently.”

Well, you think to yourself, bitterness wrapping around your words like poison ivy. You’ve checked. You can go now.

The words don’t manifest in your throat. Nothing does. Not even the echo of a sob you’ve been holding in since he first stepped foot within your sanctuary.

Instead you’re silent as you get to your feet, not caring for your nakedness. It’s nothing Jungkook hasn’t seen before. Probably knows your body better than his own at this point. Can look at the faded bruise on your chest and know that it was left there by his lips last week. Can pick out which ones of your dainty linework tattoos were there before he met you, and which ones have been acquired since.

It’s a quiet intimacy, the way Jungkook looks at you. There’s no towel in the bathroom - an oversight by your tipsy brain when deciding you needed to wash yourself clean of the man in front of you after arriving home from the club - and Jungkook doesn’t care to offer you one. 

Insanity is the product of looking at your body, he thinks. Can’t remember a time he’s ever seen you like this and hasn’t wanted to be inside you. He’s a simple man in pursuit of simple pleasures, and the way you fit him like a glove is the simplest pleasure of them all. 

“Hm?” He questions your lack of a response. 

His deep black eyes are just like the depths of the ocean floor, and it feels like he’s dragging you right down every single time he looks at you like this. Softly. Tenderly. Sweetly. As if he actually gives a shit.

There’s no room for two in this bathroom. It’s not a space designed to be shared, no matter how many times you’ve both squeezed into the shower under far different circumstances - though now you come to think of it, perhaps they weren’t so dissimilar. 

It was always Jungkook’s pursuit of pleasure that put you in that position, just like it put you there tonight.

“Hey,” he says quietly, as you turn to leave, his grip on your waist pulling you between his legs. You don’t look at him. Just keep your head turned to face out of the room - but you make no attempt to leave. Especially when his nose brushes up against the bottom of your ribs right between your breasts, and he husks, “Why are you being like this?”

The softness of his lips as he presses them against your sternum, long lashes splayed across the top of his cheeks, has you spiralling. Kind of feels like he’s twisting a corkscrew through your heart. You know he’ll rip it right out - but maybe you’ll let him, if it means he’ll kiss the wound better.

“Hmm?” He hums. One of your hands rests on his shoulder, the other in his hair, and that’s how Jungkook knows he’s rectified the damage done for a short while. It’s like putting washi tape over holes punched in the walls - useless, and bound to fall off eventually, but ever so pretty in the meantime. Another washi-tape kiss is pressed to your skin, a little higher this time. “We had a good night, didn’t we?”

The tenderness of his voice rewrites the events of the evening. A good night. 

Not one with tears, and jealousy, and arguments that people who claim to be just friends have no business having. A night shared together, perhaps, with no one else to intrude.

Didn’t we?

You so prefer this false chain of events - the one where he left the bar with you, and held your hand in the cab ride back just like he’d done in the cab ride there.

“Is she still here?”

He’s surprised that you’re mentioning it. Half-expected you to act like it never happened. Like she never happened. Is what you usually do, whenever he goes home with someone that isn’t you. 

Still, he just continues to gently stroke your sides. Doesn’t present you with any sort of weakness.

“No.”

“Did you fuck her?”

There’s a little venom to your tone; the poison ivy around your thoughts sprouting now from your throat. 

Her. Some inconsequential girl that neither of you will likely ever see again. Looked nothing like you, but a hell of a lot like his ex. 

“No, Diz,” he softens the sternness of his tone with a name only he calls you. “I didn’t fuck her.”

You’ve no idea if this is a lie or not. 

It’ll be accepted as truth for an hour. Maybe two. Just enough time for you to convince yourself that you’re the one he wants. That he couldn’t bear to fuck anyone else. That he sent her on her way after a kiss or awkward fumble, because he realised no one else could feel as good as you.

You’ll ignore the fact you know he’s here because Jem messaged him. 

You’ll ignore the fact he thinks you’ve been in the shower for over an hour, and has no actual knowledge of the events of it all. 

You’ll ignore the scratch mark on his back, and in the morning you’ll believe it was you who left there even though your nails are bitten right down.

The lies you’ll tell yourself will be far more grand than the ones Jungkook ever tells you. Nobody can ever hurt you quite like you hurt yourself.

And so, against your better judgement, you let him follow you to your bed. 

There's a clang as he tosses his rings down into the ceramic dish beside your bed. It's white, and speckled in tiny black dots, and matches the one Jungkook has in his own bedroom. Not really a surprise. He was the one who bought it for you. Before then, he used to just tuck his rings beneath your pillows - but he kept losing them, and he found it annoying having to rummage around for them whenever he was trying to make a silent exit so as to not wake you.

You tell yourself that small things like this are Jungkook's way of integrating himself into your life; creating permanence. In reality, it's just something that makes it easier for him to leave.

Leaving is the last thing on your mind right now, though, and it will be until he comes.

It used to be different. He used to stay. You convince yourself each and every time that he’ll do what he used to do before things got so confusing. That he’ll stay, and that things will be okay.

You let him kiss your skin, but he’ll never kiss your lips. Let him lay claim to your body, even though you know he’ll never lay claim to your soul. 

It’s nice to pretend.

Nice, when he lays you down and rids himself of his shirt. Nice, when he presses your legs apart, and looks at you like you’re the first woman he’s ever laid eyes upon. Nice, when he says shit like, “Such a nice cunt,” and “Let me make you feel good.”

So nice, when he strokes up and down your inner thigh, eyes trained on your pussy. 

So, so nice when he slowly drips a little spit between his pursed lips and watches as it trails down your folds. 

So fucking nice, when he spreads you with his index and middle finger, groaning at the sight of you.

See, Jungkook can be nice. Can be honest. Can tell you how much he wants you, and you can believe him without having to do mental gymnastics over it all.

As he sinks his middle finger into you - “Shit. So wet for me, aren’t you?” - Jungkook is on his best behaviour. He’ll make you feel so good that you’ll forget he ever made you feel bad, cause he needs this. Needs you. 

Not in the life-debilitating, earth-shattering, universe-bending way that you need him, but in a way that isn’t too dissimilar. 

You’re his best friend. He loves you in his own, curious way. Would lay his life on the line for you. Just can’t seem to keep his dick in his pants for no other reason than selfish gluttony. 

It’s his fatal flaw, but he just thinks everyone has them. That most people are like this.

Of the seven deadly sins, Jungkook wields them all. Too proud to admit his wrongdoings. Greedy in his need to have everything life can offer, and how he refuses to limit himself to just you. His lust and gluttony go hand in hand - yet whenever any one else with similar predispositions look in your direction, he turns green with envy. Green, until he’s red, wrath taking hold. 

But he’s lazy, too. Far too settled in how easy it is to have his way with you. Why would he try harder when you never make him?

That’s your cardinal sin: desperation. 

It reeks. Spiced vanilla and black cherry. Tarnishes your skin, until Jungkook licks it from you.

And so as his lips press down your legs, wet and wanting, you don’t object. In fact, you don’t really do anything. You just allow it to happen.

Because you are desperate - for him, his approval, his desire. His heart.

You’ll never get it, mind you, for his heart is hollow. 

Saw every example of what he considered to be true love crackle and crumble until it fell apart. Parents divorced. High-school sweetheart cheated. Love, as you know it, doesn’t exist in Jungkook’s understanding of life. 

You never stood a chance. Not really.

The only times his heart is full is when he steals enough adoration from yours, and cosplays it as his own. Shines it back at you, and tricks you into thinking that maybe he did mean it when he mumbled false declarations into your lips.

But that was three summers ago, now, and Jungkook is a creature of habit. Too stuck in his ways to ever change. Comfortable in this chaos with you.

‘Cause while the other girls are fleeting, and fun, and always very nice, they’re never comfortable. Not like you are. 

“I liked your dress tonight,” he whispers, as he pushes a second finger into you. Pumps them gently, palm skywards, coaxing soft little moans from your lips. Curls them just right, just like he always does.

The affection of such a compliment rids you of the haunting way he’d looked at you earlier that evening. 

Up, down. No smile. Turned away to change the song coming through the aux at pre-drinks. Didn’t look at you again until he was passing out shots for everyone to take. Just nodded towards your necklace - the one his hobbyist silversmith mother made you for Christmas - and asked, “You like it?”

The pendant is small. Embossed with the letters DJ - the name his mother collectively calls you whenever you spend the summer together at his place. The hammered edge of the pendant matches the ring that wraps around your thumb. Another one of her creations, gifted to you by him for your birthday.

“Of course I do,” you’d said. Seemed silly for him to ask. You wear it most days. 

“Good,” he’d nodded, then took his shot and pretended as if he wasn't all too aware that your dress would be attracting good-for-nothing men all night.

See, Jungkook knows you like the necklace. Had just been reminding you of it, and the fact it’s his initial on there with the initial only he calls you. Well, him and his mother. Goes with the territory. 

She’s seen you through your formative years. Only ever sees the good parts, because Jungkook orchestrates it that way.

She doesn’t see the moments like these, when he’s crushed your self esteem and tries to fix it in the most idiotic of ways. 

The necklace pools around the base of your throat as your head tips back into the pillows, his thumb coming to toy with your clit, gently pressing down.

“Shush, Diz,” he smiles, so pleased to see your body responding in the way that it always does. “You’ll get us in trouble.”

God forbid the people you live with - who’ve all heard the arguments after his illicit encounters with randomers, and seen his face of thunder whenever you’re getting ready for first dates - ever figure out you’re fucking. Not like it’s obvious in the slightest. Not why Jem texted Jungkook, instead of checking on you herself.

Biting onto your wrist, you try and stifle the impact of his touch - ‘cause if they do hear, it will be your fault. You’ll be the reason everyone knows your dirty little secrets. You’ll be the one who ruins it all. Not him. Just you. 

He doesn’t mean to condition you in such a way. Doesn’t even really realise he’s doing it.

Nor do you - but your self esteem is shot to shit. You’re good enough to fuck, but not good enough to love, even if Jungkook insists that there’s no one he adores more. It always comes with an add-on of ‘you’re my best friend’, or ‘you wouldn’t wanna date me anyways’.

Maybe he’s right.

But maybe it would have been nice to try.

Shame.

The pace of Jungkook’s fingers pumping into you begins to slow. Leaking around the base of his knuckles, you’re just as wet as you always are with him. Even when the emotional labour of letting him have his way with you feels like a ten tonne weight on your chest, crushing down on your ribs and spoiling you forevermore, your body still wants him. Only him. Always him.

Withdrawing his fingers, Jungkook taps the outer side of your thigh. “On your front for me, Diz. Face down, ass up.”

With anyone else, Jungkook is far more often on the receiving end. It’s a shame, ‘cause his talents go to waste, it’s just what he’s found to be typical of random hook-ups.

He loves pussy. Loves eating it. Loves that you love it, too.

Slow as he spreads your ass with his hands, Jungkook really doesn’t fuck around with wasting time. He dives in without hesitation, burying his tongue between your folds. Cares not for accuracy, nor carefulness. Just wants his tongue all over you.

Your body lurches forward, hands clutching onto the duvet beneath you. He’s always been like this. Hungry. Just as desperate as you so often feel, but better at hiding it than you are.

His tongue laps against you. Sinks into your soaked hole as deep as he can get it. Uses one of his hands to reach around and toy with your clit while he continues to explore somewhere he knows like the back of his hand.

Pulling back a little, Jungkook’s breathing is heavy. You can hear it. Groan, as he grips your ass again. Spanks it softly, then get back to his previous position. Licks a stripe from your clit up to your leaking cunt, then continues. Flicks up against the tight muscle you rarely let him fuck around with.

But you want him to want you. Want him to have you in whichever capacity he so desires. 

You reach back. Tangle a hand in his hair, and encourage him to massage your tight hole with his tongue, like you know he loves to do. 

It’s kinda cute, in a way. He likes doing it, ‘cause he loves the way it feels whenever your tongue toys with his ass. Assumes other people must love it too. Just wants you to feel good. Wants to right his earlier wrongs.

He continues to trace up and down both your holes, stimulating your entire body in the process. Rubs your clit with his fingers, till you're writhing against the sheets, body pressed flat to the cotton as Jungkook begins to fuck his fingers into your again. 

“You gonna cum for me?” He husks, a smile on his wet lips as he watches the tell-tale sign of an orgasm rush over you. Soon, you’ll be looking at him with dizzy eyes once more, and your namesake will make Jungkook feel things he pretends he can’t feel. “That’s it, Diz. All over my fingers. Good girl. Good fuckin’ girl.”

There’s a relief that comes with your orgasm for Jungkook. Hope that you’ll stop being mardy with him. He doesn’t like it when you don’t like him. These days, he keeps making choices that make it hard for you to like him. 

But you always like him - like him so much - in the comedown of a climax.

He doesn’t give you much time to recover. Wants to coax a second orgasm from you while he still can. Pulls you back into position - face down, ass up - and pushes down his sweats. Cock hard, there’s a small damp patch in his boxers from the precum he’s leaked for you. Lines himself up. 

“Let me fuck you,” he begs before he pushes into you.

“Uh-uh,” you full forward a little, preventing him from doing what he so desperately wants to do. Turning to look over your shoulder, you shake your head. “Condom.”

He furrows his brows. Has the audacity to look fucking offended, as if he didn’t bring another girl back to the house you share.

You’re stupid, and you’re desperate, and you make all the wrong choices, but you aren’t naive. Not really. Your delusions and denial are always elevated away from reality, of which you like to think you have a firm grip on.

And so you simply say, “Don’t believe you didn’t fuck her.”

He doesn’t deny it. Shakes his head, not that you can see it. Just reaches to the shelf above your bed, and gets one from the pot you keep them tucked away in. Rarely ever use them. It’s a novelty, more than not, when you use them. Something to make him last a little longer.

It’s different today.

Today, it’s because you don’t know if his cock is fucking clean or not.

It should crush you, but it doesn’t. 

Just a fact of life. Jungkook fucked someone else less than three hours ago. Came, probably. For someone else. Over someone else. Inside someone else. 

But that desperation of yours is back once more. You want to be the reason why Jungkook loses his mind in temporary bliss. To be better. To be his last memory of the evening.

And so as Jungkook rolls the condom down his thick shaft, you position yourself perfectly for him. Whimper as the tip of his cock kisses your entrance. Whine, as he pushes inside you. 

“That’s it,” he husks, gripping your ass cheeks to spread them nice and wide. Looking down to where your bodies meet, Jungkook is reminded of why he enjoys you so much. No one takes him so well. No one. He knows this. Doesn’t know why the fuck he ever feels the need to seek out anyone else. They’re never as good as this. “Fuck. That’s it, baby.”

Your hips roll back, ass bouncing in that hypnotic way he always swears will ruin him. His grip loosens to let you do the hard work, one of his hands stroking up your spine until it’s resting around the base of your throat. 

Taking back a little control, he keeps your head pushed into the pillows. Grunts. “Take this cock so fuckin’ well, don’t you?”

The mumble you moan into the sheets isn’t enough for him. He always does this. Asserts control and then realises he actually kinda fuckin’ hates it. Fingers still wrapped around the base of your neck, Jungkook pulls you up.

Chest pressed to your back, Jungkook wastes no time locking you in place with an arm around the front of your waist. His cock continues to pump upwards into you, the movements a little subdued but by no means lacking. 

The ridge of his thick head rubs up against your sweet spot. Gets you so fucking needy. Has your hand dipping to your clit to match the pressure.

And when you do? Oh, it’s heaven. You can’t help but whine - so Jungkook uses the hand that isn't on your waist to cover your mouth.

“You only get to cum if you’re quiet,” he tells you. “Be quiet for me, baby.”

But his hips are erratic. The sounds are lewd; skin on skin. It’s wet. Disgusting. Needy. Him, just as much as you. Sweat blossoms on his skin, keeping you both in this clammy haze of hedonism. 

Catching his lips on your ear, Jungkook doesn’t care if he isn’t supposed to let kisses linger so close to your lips. Tongue wet, he intrudes. Licks the shell of your ear. Grazes his teeth on your lobe. Whispers, “You looked so pretty tonight,” then drags his tongue across your ear. 

Cares not for precision nor accuracy, just the fact that this is an area of the body he doesn’t often explore, and that maybe he should do it more often, given how tightly your pussy is clamping around him.

There’s something about it - the obstruction of one of your senses likely to blame, sound distorted whenever his tongue licks against it - that makes you whine. 

You can’t even really do that now. Are too muffled beneath his hand - until he pushes the two fingers that had been inside your pussy earlier into your mouth. 

The taste is just the same as it always is whenever he does shit like this. Loves having you taste yourself. Experiencing what he experiences. Wants you to know exactly why he’s incapable of letting you go.

“Slutty little mouth,” he smirks against your ear. “Gonna finish in it.”

“Mhhm?” you mumble against the fingers you’re keeping wet and warm for him.

“Mhmm,” he replies. Presses a kiss to your temple, ‘cause he isn’t really thinking straight. Groans when your cunt clenches from the touch. “God, you want it, don’t you? Want it so bad. Wanna swallow my cum.”

Of course you do. You’ll take what he’ll give you. 

Your mumble around his fingers isn’t enough. He wants to hear you say it. Frees your mouth of himself. Grips your chin between his forefinger and thumb. Turns you to face further over your shoulder.

He’s just gonna make you say it. Just make you say something lewd to get him a little closer. Just… Just gonna… Just...- Oh, fuck it. Your lips are just there, and they’re wet, and they’re pouty and - God, forgive me - perfect for him.  

His eyes flitter between your eyes and your lips. Is aware you’re doing the same. 

“Kook,” you whisper, as if you’re about to reprimand him.

“Please,” he begs. Thinks he needs this just as much as you do. Maybe even more so.

And so somewhere between the overwhelming acknowledgement that this is a catastrophic chain of events, and the promise of a happy ending (of which you know damn well will never reach fruition), you let him sink his lips into yours.

You’re pretty in war, and even prettier in defeat. 

Jungkook thinks you’re prettiest when you’re all his. 

You think that to be his is to accept an eternal loss. 

The breath of his nose is heavy against your cheek as his lips press into yours, brows furrowed. The need for you to be lewd is abandoned, ‘cause Jungkook doesn’t even think he’ll last long enough for it. Thinks that nothing gets him closer than the flavour of your lips. 

Hips still jerking up, the sound of his skin hitting your ass echoing around the room, Jungkook fucks himself into you until he can do it no longer. Pulls away. Rips off his condom. Tosses it to the floor. Gets you face down again. Wanks himself to the point of coming undone, hot spurts of cum dripping onto your ass and spilling down to the valley of your spine.

He’s the one moaning now, your body defiled by a boy who you wish would paint you in pretty compliments instead. Still, this is a compliment. Kind of. You’re hot enough to make him cum. That’s nice, you suppose.

“Shit,” he chokes out, breathing all out of sync, heartbeat far too rapid. A light spank is tapped against your ass, then softly stroked. He soothes. Aloe on sunburn. Milk with hot sauce. Pretty kisses in the comedown of a rough fuck. 

You won’t get those. Wasn’t a particularly rough fuck, either - and yet it hurts so much when he gets up to leave.

It’s awkward. He doesn’t really say bye. Doesn’t acknowledge the fact he stoked a fire inside you that burned you from the inside out. Ignores the ashes that are scattered around your vessel, as if your soul has been ejected from its home. 

He’s warm, when you look at him. That little part of your heart has been stolen once more. He’s just feeding it back to you.

“Sorry,” he says, a hand on your doorknob. “I shouldn’t- I mean, we shouldn’t-”

“It’s fine,” you offer.

That’s the thing about Jungkook. He’ll give you the world, then realise it was never his to give. Always has to ask for it back. You’ve lost count of how many times he’s fucked you, then acted as if was foolish - only to repeat the same mistakes the next evening.

It’s what he’s always done, and is what he’ll always do.

You’ll never learn. 

The shirt you chuck on to head downstairs the next morning is his. 

Far too big for you, it finishes around your thighs. Television blaring in the room beneath you, it’s obvious your housemates are awake, and even as you’re trudging down the stairs, you’re not quite sure you’re alive.

The headache of an overbearing hangover is threatening your life. You’re certain of it. The fact your housemates have the television set to what must be the maximum volume? Only further sending you to an early grave. 

And yet when you see Jungkook sitting by the breakfast bar, hair in all different directions, a bowl of cereal in front of him, and smiling in the direction of whomever else is in the room, you find yourself smiling, too. 

“Morning,” you say pleasantly as you walk into the kitchen, ready to flop your forehead down on Jungkook’s shoulder like you so often do.

Ready, until you notice the look in his eyes when he turns to face you.

Ready, until you glance in the direction of his previous smile.

Ready, until you see the girl who looks a lot like his ex-girlfriend and absolutely nothing like you leaning on the other side of the counter. Mug from your trip to Amsterdam together in her hands, and the shirt you got him for his birthday covering her body, she smiles.

You’re drowning.

“Oh,” you say, not looking at him. Only her. “I didn’t realise we had company.”

“Is she still here?”

“No.”

She’s awkward as she nods. “Sorry, hey. I crashed here last night - hope you don’t mind? It’s just you know what it’s like getting an uber at that time-”

“Yeah, yeah,” you nod. Smile. Jungkook thinks you look pretty - but of course he does. You look defeated. “Totally.”

“Did you fuck her?

“No, Diz. I didn't fuck her.”

“Jungkook said you were feeling unwell last night?” She tries to make conversation. She needn’t. You feel far more unwell now than you ever did last night - and that’s before you notice the pretty purple bruise forming on her neck. “How are you feeling now?”

Her care is kind. Considerate. Wholly wasted on you because you’re gonna lie, and say that you’re fine, even though it feels as if your lungs have been filled with venom spat by a lover who is incapable of loving.

Still, you don’t look at Jungkook. Just make your excuses. Leave.

And even though he knows that he should, Jungkook doesn’t chase after you. 

He lets you go, because he knows you’ll always come back. You always do.

But if you don't?

Well, he’ll go back to you, and you’ll let him. Again, you always do.

From the kitchen, Jungkook can hear your showering starting up. Appetite lost, he isn’t listening to the girl in front of him. Isn’t even really sure of her name.

All that he’s sure of is that the fall out of this is not gonna be pretty.

[mika-mp3]

The treasure is all mine!

-Prologe- (Chapter one, chapter two) Genshin Impact x Creator!Reader

warnings: first post ever! almost swear word, the most classic start to a SAGAU fic ever (Im sorry I dont know hot to start else), no y/n used, gender neutral ,english isn't my first language so propably spelling errors, I don't know how Aranaras talk. (I professionally ignored that quest.), characters might turn yandere in the future

summary: After playing TCG your screen becomes strangely white. It starts glowing brighter and brighter and the light seems to suck you in? That can't go wrong... right? Suddenly you find yourself in a forest, not remembering anything but meeting a little creature that might be able to help you out

characters: you, your mom (no this is not a joke), aranara!oc: Aramasu

word count: 1.359

wattpad version here

https://pin.it/38Diiq1CA

"THIS BI-" you yelled at the screen. The third time. The third time you lost at that damn card game, and the third time you got annoyed because of it. "How?? How can this be so hard? It's the same technique I always use when I play normally! It works against bosses; why not now in the Genius Invocation TCG? I was so close this time too!" With a frustrated sigh, you let your head fall back. On the screen was still the word "defeat," big and plastered onto a red background for extra drama. Seriously, who had this idea? It's just frustrating at this point. Not even the recommended teams online seemed to work. You even tried copying the other players' teams that defeated you, but you still lost anyway. Why were you doing this again? Oh right... rewards.

Another sigh escaped your mouth when you heard your mother's voice from the kitchen. "Darling! Come down, dinner is ready!" A small smile crept on your face. 'Darling,' a nickname your mom gave you whenever she was in a good mood. Seems like work was quite alright today.

"Coming!" you answered, the dinner smell already reaching you by the time you finally mustered up the courage to sit up. Looking at the screen one last time, you decided to stop playing Genshin Impact for today. You had already done your dailies and everything else you felt like doing. Seriously though, doing dailies started to feel like a chore. That's why you were more than happy to open chests and explore instead. Standing up, you turned the game off and watched the screen go black.

Or... did it?

You were just about to leave the room when it lit up once more, but not with the loading screen, just plain white. "What the..." A bright white light filled the room, instantly blinding you. With your hands lifted before your eyes, you managed to get closer. "What is this?!" you said, a bit of fear in your voice. This had never happened before! You didn't even know that your screen could be so blinding! Just when you were about to touch it, everything went dark. Dark and warm. That's all you felt. Looking around frantically, you tried to make sense of the situation. It was still bright outside, so it shouldn't have been so dark now! Maybe just the aftermath of the blinding light?

"Darling, are you okay?" You heard a voice in the distance, but it felt oddly far away, as if it went further and further away with every word spoken. "M-.. Mom?" you asked, but there was no answer. It was still very warm. So warm. Slowly, you felt yourself grow weaker and weaker. Soon your knees gave in, but you didn't fall while your eyes closed shut. Before you could say anything else, your consciousness had already left your body. . . . . So... comfy. It was so warm, like on a sunny summer day when you lie down on the grass and just enjoy the fresh air. Talking of which, whatever you lay on felt just as nice. The sounds of birds could be heard in the distance. After a couple of minutes, you opened your eyes and saw...

A vast expanse of vibrant green, stretching out before you. You're lying on a bed of soft moss, the texture cushioning your body like the most luxurious mattress. Above, a canopy of trees sways gently in the breeze, their leaves creating a symphony of whispers. Sunlight filters through the branches, casting dappled patterns of light and shadow that dance around you.

You sit up slowly, feeling the softness of the moss beneath your fingers. The air is filled with the sweet scent of blooming flowers and the earthy aroma of the forest floor. You take a deep breath, the freshness of the air invigorating you. The sounds of chirping birds and the distant babble of a stream create a soothing background melody.

As you look around, the forest feels both alien and familiar. Massive trees with trunks wide enough to house entire rooms rise majestically around you. Their leaves are an array of colors, from the deepest greens to shimmering golds, reflecting the sunlight in a magical display. The forest floor is dotted with flowers of every hue, some glowing faintly, adding to the otherworldly atmosphere.

Confused, you try to remember how you got here. The last thing you recall is the blinding white light from your screen and your mother calling you for dinner. Your thoughts are interrupted by the feeling of something soft nuzzling your hand. Looking down, you see a white rabbit, its fur pristine and its eyes large and expressive. It seems completely at ease, cuddling against your hand as if it belongs there.

With a gentle touch, you stroke the fur of the rabbit. It nuzzles into your hand, happy and content. A gentle smile spreads across your face. Have you ever felt so at peace before? It's hard to say when you don't remember anything from before. Not like it matters now. Nothing matters. There is no reason to question anything at all. Not why this wild rabbit is so calm and cuddly with you, not scared at all. Not why you don't feel certain things, like hunger or thirst. It's all so nice and warm and cozy.

Wait, there is something. Some feeling, not very familiar, but you still recognize it. Are you being watched?

Yes. No, no, it can't be that. Probably? Turning around, you scan your surroundings. All the bushes, the trees, and their leaf crowns, then you see it.

It isn't threatening, more weirdly familiar than anything. The small creature is floating above the ground with a little cute 'hat'? One word pops into your head as the creature comes closer: 'Aranara.' But how do you know that? It feels natural, like knowing the name of a dog or cat. Aramasu. This little Aranara's name is Aramasu.

"You're not a Nara," says the curious creature.

You answer, "No, I am no Nara. That's what I believe, at least."

With a soft smile, you reach out, cupping the little Aranara's face. It looks up, surprised, almost speechless. The warmth soothing through its body by the mere touch of you.

"What might you be doing here, little Aramasu?"

The rabbit, still cuddled up in your other hand, seems very happy with the encounter. The Aranara isn't surprised that you know its name; it feels truly natural.

Aramasu's eyes widen slightly, then it relaxes into your touch. "I was just wandering, like I always do. But today felt different. The forest whispered to me of a new presence, something... special."

You look around; the forest seems to glow with a subtle, otherworldly light, as if acknowledging Aramasu's words. The trees sway gently, and the air is filled with a soft, harmonious hum. It feels as though the entire forest is alive and aware of your presence, welcoming you in a way that goes beyond mere coincidence.

"Special?" you ask, intrigued. "How so?"

Aramasu tilts its head, studying you with a curious expression. "You have a light within you, one that resonates with the heart of the forest. It's warm and soothing, like the embrace of the earth itself. It's rare to see such light in anyone other than the forest spirits."

The rabbit nudges your hand, drawing your attention back to its soft fur. You feel a sense of contentment and belonging, unlike anything you've ever experienced—or at least, anything you can remember. The forest, the creatures, even the very air around you, all seem to sing in harmony with your presence.

"Perhaps," Aramasu continues, "you are more than what you think you are. The forest recognizes you, and so do I."

As you ponder Aramasu's words, a sense of purpose begins to stir within you. Though you may not remember your past, the present feels vivid and alive, as if this is where you were always meant to be. The forest, with all its mysteries and wonders, seems to be waiting for you to discover your true self.

-to be continued-

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Thank you so much for reading! Fell free to give me feedback and ideas how to continue this!

Mika

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Rigor Mortis (part 5)

College roommate!Miguel O'Hara x reader

(AO3 Mirror) (Wattpad) Series Masterlist, Main Masterlist,

Part 4, Part 6

summary: You deal with the aftermath of last night. Lyla has a party.

warnings: very suggestive. mentions of sex, vulgar language, etc 18+ Minors DNI

a/n: this is so so so self indulgent i cannot express it enough. probably ooc asf: you've been warned.

Thank you to my beta readers, @tianyhi and @urgonnaneedabiggership (they also write Miguel fics, I highly recommend! my favourite is this series), I couldn't have done it without you guys <3

Join my taglists here

wc: 8.5k (i'm on a strict plan and had a lot to get through lmfao)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

and they were good.

Eventually, you're bundled into your room in a fit of giggles and with shaky legs. Even in Miguel's hoodie, insisted upon by the man himself, the sheets feel a little colder after he leaves. Initially, he had collapsed on top of you; smothering you with the heat of his bare skin and the sweats that ride down his hips, dangerously low. You're pushing him off, or trying to, heavy and leaden-limbed. Whether it's the weight of that orgasm or the remnants of that blunt that turns your arms to jelly – you don't know.

Honestly, you don't think you care. He's resorted to laying his head on your chest in mock sleep – clearly still high as fuck – and stretching out on top like a housecat. He's warm on your lap; so you bring a hand to card through dark brown curls that rest on the flat of your sternum. 

You'd never have known it: Miguel has a playful side, beneath all the sarcasm and red tape. 

In the morning, he's gone - with only his hoodie as proof that something happened. For you, it's a hazy memory - warmth tinged in the lazy light of last night's high. It comes and goes like the tide on a quiet beach: remembering how he touched you, the feel of bare skin on bare skin, the way it burned when he kissed your shoulder…. 

And it's gone, again. You're left tracing the hickey at the base of your neck, and it aches . A little moment like that, fooling around like teenagers on prom night, and it shouldn't feel as intimate as it does. Groaning into your pillow, you burrow into the expanse of your roommate's hoodie. With a busy week incoming, you can't afford to be distracted – not like this. 

And so, you bury the urge to knock on Miguel's door, and put your lips around the words that mean… more. You want more. It feels greedy to verbalise it, as if you've seen too much of him already. The irony; humping almost fully clothed and yet, feeling so bare. It leaves a strange taste in your mouth – blood, maybe. Maybe he's finally done it: stuck the knife between ribs to find out what colour you bleed. Miguel's a scientist after all; prone to making things go pop and snap , slicing into specimens with a steady hand.

It's too much, too close for comfort and you can't afford it: affection and intimacy in any shape or size was a fatal wound , especially after last time. Instead, you let the morning waves crash over its outline left in sand. A body – blood and gristle and guts – washed away by the tide. 

You find yourself pushing down dangerous feelings. After finally getting comfortable with Miguel, all that progress seems for naught; bumbling around the apartment like a deer finding its legs. The first morning, you're spared a confrontation as he's already gone from the apartment. Earlier than usual, and you hand-wave away that little voice in your head that says: he's avoiding you . 

He's not. He can't be. And you know it because he's able to look you in the eye. Briefly, but it's much longer than you can last. You have a whole conversation when he comes home and it only makes you want to rip out your eyeballs a little. 

You're on the sofa, hands in your lap and antsy. There's a stupid soap on the TV, but you can barely concentrate; head too full of cotton to make sense of the screen. You're so lost in thought that when the door clicks open, you jump half a foot into the air. 

"Shit." You turn, watching Miguel kick his shoes off at the door. Flashing him a nervous smile, you wave limply and turn around to cringe. 

"Heeey," God. You burrow into the cushions. 

"Hey." He's got a plastic bag in hand. He drops the rucksack on his back, and goes straight to the kitchen. 

You call out. "Takeout's in the fridge." 

He hums, and you hear clattering from the doorway. Turning, you watch; sleeves rolled up in a smart shirt. You can see the muscles in his back from here; the ripple of hard lines under cotton. Craning your head, you can't help but be curious. 

"Stop sticking your nose in."

You're halfway off the couch, and stop dead in your tracks. 

"M'not-" 

He peeks out from the doorframe; catching you in the act. 

"You're not allowed to look."

It leaves you spluttering, getting off the sofa like a spoilt child. He's telling you not to look, and like clockwork you're itching for it; padding towards the counters. Miguel must have superpowers the way he catches you, leant against the doorframe with his arms crossed across his broad chest. You're on your tiptoes and trying to get a glimpse into the kitchen. He shifts in the way, tight-lipped and shaking his head. 

"Meant it. It's a surprise." You cock your head, like you can't believe what he's saying. 

You step to the other side and he steps along with you, blocking your view. 

"... Miguel ." You say it slowly, incredulous. You're stepping closer, ever so slightly, but he stays stony-faced and resolute. 

For the first time in 24 hours, since you basically fucked him in the room next door, you're looking each other in the eye. Squinting, you hold his gaze but he barely cracks a smile. 

"Sit down." He says it sternly, but his voice is soft. "Please."

With a flourish, you bring your hands up in surrender and inch back towards the couch. It's the usual chopping and thudding of cabinets being opened and closed. It takes everything not to look back, but you force yourself to concentrate on the TV. 

Finally, he places a bowl in front of you before flopping to your side. He's still in his work clothes, adjusting the waistband of black slacks and popping off the buttons at the top of his shirt. You're trying not to stare, not to drool at the way he just melts ; sinking into the seats like a lolly on a hot sidewalk. When he brings his bowl closer, that's when you inspect the contents of yours. 

"Is this…?" You start, and he hums; taking a healthy slurp of noodles in the process. 

You shake your head to no one in particular. It's the very same instant ramen you've stopped buying, after constant complaints and lectures from the man himself. There's enough salt in here to banish a demon, he'd spit. In retaliation you'd bite back, saying, maybe you'll fuck off where you came from, and retreat to your room to eat in peace. It's your favourite flavour; perfectly salty and flavourful and definitely not good for you. In the broth, there's the milky white and yellow of an egg, with spring onions and fresh veg breaking the surface. Even before you've taken a bite, you feel that warmth at your chest, again. 

He doesn't even look at you, pointing a finger at the screen instead. 

"I thought Jenny was dead?"

You clear your throat of that lump, rising up like a fishing boat spit up by the waves. 

"That was her twin sister, Jane."

"...I thought Jane was dead." He frowns. 

"No, no, Jane faked her death in the mining accident; and ran off with all that inheritance money… were you paying attention last episode?"

"No, you watched it without me."

"Yeah, but you said you hated this show–"

" –only because it's a total rip-off of La Patrona ," 

"And yet, you're begging me not to watch without you–" 

"Begging seems a little strong–" 

He's kept his sharp tongue, and you're too occupied with arguing to notice the hand wrapped around the back of the sofa; how you're both inching closer until your legs come to rest on his own. You're focusing on his lips, drawn in by a pull that seems stronger than gravity. 

He's saying your name, and you snap out of it. Blinking up at him, a deer in headlights, you remember yourself and look away. Tension pulls at the both of you, a string as thin as fishing wire that snaps with your realisation. You like the way he looks, flushed and flustered after a long day. You could make him feel even better, right now, if he wanted it. You'd drop to your knees and wrap a hand around his cock, pulling those beautiful sounds out of him – the very same ones you'd fucked yourself to the thought of, not so long ago. 

If, being the key word. And with the way he shifts back, away from you, you're not too sure if last night was a flash in the pan or something more. 

Everything about Miguel screams dangerous; flags in deep scarlet that are telling you to stay the fuck away. He doesn't commit, sleeps around; refusing to define or put a label on any significant relationship in his life. He won't even admit, say the words, that he's fucking a half-dozen girls right now; even when you've got concrete proof in the form of messy lips and banging on the walls. Okay, maybe half a dozen is a stretch; but three girls, on three separate, multiple, occasions for sure. Probably; you haven't technically seen anything but if the precision of last night was any indicator – the terrifying speed at which he made you fold like a lawn chair – he had significant experience. He was a fucking veteran; dedicated to the sport for the love of the game. 

You find yourself caught in his web all the same; kicking yourself at your naivete. He's turned away now, seemingly unfazed, making little comments at the show you've got on TV. It's becoming increasingly clear where you stand: caught in a game of chicken with your roommate – a man with balls of steel, if last night was any indicator. You're ill equipped to deal with such levels of conflict avoidance, despite years of hands on experience. 

The question remains, stuck in the gaps of your teeth like udon, thick and dense and chewy: how exactly does he feel about you? Where do you belong? 

~~~

It's been quite the week and a half, mostly spent trying to make sense of Miguel. One minute you're at each other's throats, and the next, he's talking you through rate laws and kinetics equations. Apparently , you've got a lecturer he used to have, and he insists on sidling up to you on the dining table; prodding at your paper and liberally crossing out errors. His inconsistency has you irate ; and it means you get petty, picking fights and laying easy bait. Frustratingly enough, all it does is make that tension worse; thick and choking ; in your little apartment. 

The only thing you have to look forward to is the party at Lyla's; of which you've volunteered to help set up. It means food, and drink, and a couple hours of respite, hopefully. 

On the day, you get to Lyla's early. Miguel's at work, promising to be there in a couple of hours, and so you take the subway instead. Yet again, walking up to her apartment feels like another world – one of marble and faux fur and lots of animal print. When she lets you up, you're left with only your thoughts and the quiet hum of the elevator. In the mirrored wall, you take stock of your outfit: snug denim and a little shirt. Admittedly, your wardrobe felt a little lacking – jeans and a nice top being your go to. Right now, your only hope is that the dress code would be more forgiving. 

The door swings open and Lyla's pushing you towards the living room, chattering away at a mile a minute. It's overwhelming as you're dragged into the light, half a dozen boxes and its miscellaneous contents strewn onto the floor. 

"–and Jess has the nose of a bloodhound, so if anything seems even a little off, she'll know… "

You nod slowly as Lyla squeezes your arm with so much force, it cuts off blood supply. 

"Like clockwork. We need this to run like clockwork."

Fingers numb, you watch as her features set; a wide smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes and shadow that cuts her face just so. Overcast and dramatic; simply put, it's terrifying. 

There's a loud Pop! from behind, making you jump. 

"... sorry !" Peter's voice rings out, and there’s a tangle of brown hair and dark eyes peeking over the kitchen island. 

Walking over, you can see he's splayed out on the tiles, balloons littered all over the place. A balloon pump, long discarded, sits in its packet at barely an arm's length. More importantly, though, he's got a bundle of red hair and freckles in his arms; little May, sniffling and whining with what's left of a balloon between chubby fingers. 

"Might need some help, over here…" He says it softly, rocking the little girl in his lap. 

Lyla rolls up non-existent sleeves, face scrunched up in concentration. She closes her eyes ; fingers dancing as if typing on non-existent keys. 

"...okay, okay, change of plans." She turns to you, eyes wrenched open and hands clasped together – Machievellian in nature. You suppose; with the sheer extent of her party planning skills, able to pull strings this way and that; it fits. "We've got exactly 3 hours and 23 minutes before everyone else arrives, plus about 17 minutes, give or take, before Jess does."

"How do you kno-" You start, but Peter presses a finger to his lips. She's in the zone, he seems to mouth. 

“I need you and Pete to get these balloons done, and then we can set up the archway. I’ll call Ben, ask him where the fuck he is, and then we’ll see if we can get some banners and streamers up…. God , and the food…. think I need to threaten someone at the catering company, give me a sec,” She stalks off, muttering something that sounds important. Pete shrugs, kicking over a box of balloons; black, white and gold, a lot fancier than you had expected. May is eased off of his lap, and he presses a gentle kiss to the top of her head. She sniffles, holding her head up bravely. It's probably the cutest thing you’ve seen all year.

“I give her 5 minutes before she realises Miguel’s going to be late.”

“...and God help us when she does.” You finish for him, settling down on the cool marble. 

You make a start on the balloons, opening the untouched packets and pulling out a shiny pump.

“How long have you known each other?” You busy your hands by stretching the neck of a deceptively small balloon.

“Oh, Lyla?” He frowns. “A couple of years, maybe. We met because of Miguel – same with Jess and Ben, actually.”

It's your turn to frown. Miguel was the glue? It’s a picture that doesn’t quite match up with the meet-cute that you were painting in your head. If they met because of your roommate, it must’ve been a contentious group project, or someone rear-ended in the parking lot, that brought them together: something with a lot of shouting and arguing, you decide. 

Maybe Pete sees the surprise on your face, because he adds, “I’ve known Miguel for longer, though… and he’s a lot nicer than people give him credit for.”

“...I didn’t say he wasn’t.” Nice? Not a chance. 

“But you were thinking it. Promise, once you get to know him–”

He’ll give you a mind-numbing orgasm and pretend it never happened. Or something like that.

“ –he gets less confusing?” You grumble. “I’ve seen enough, I think.”

“So maybe he’s a bit of a prick. But under that cold, stony exterior; buried deep, deep, deep…”

You raise an eyebrow.

“Deep down , somewhere, he’s got a heart.”

“I just,” You pause, choosing your next words more delicately. “I didn’t expect his friends to be like you guys. Fun and–” …a little batshit, and… “ – spontaneous. He’s so stoic sometimes, it’s worrying. Like, he’ll just blank out on the couch–”

“–frowning in the corner like the wall’s pissed him off personally? Yeah, I’ve seen that one a few times.”

“He’s just so hot and cold! Sometimes we’re good and almost friendly, and then all of a sudden he’s avoiding me at all costs, holed up somewhere. A-And then he’s making me breakfast, like that blip didn’t even happen… did I do something wrong? Has he said anything to you? I-I just want him to–”

The man besides you chuckles. And then, you flash him a violent look that has him flattening his features in a hurry.

“He just… takes some time to warm up, s’all. He’s changed – changing. I mean, we went to highschool together and I didn’t even realise ‘til we met again in college.”

“You went to highschool with him?”

“Yeah, but I was like, 2 grades ahead of him. We didn’t really talk except… we were both in this robotics club afterschool.”

“Robotics? Wires, and circuit boards, and–”

“ –robots. Honest-to-God, hand-on-heart, stupid little robots. And being teenagers with way too much time on our hands, we’d build ‘em, and then make ‘em fight to the death. Miguel… he took it way more serious than everyone else there. We’d mess around with goobers and battlebots – hell, sometimes we’d skip to get food. He was.. He was always there, though, hunkered down in the corner and tinkering away at something.” 

“Now, I wasn’t popular in highschool, at all – I went to Robotics Club , so I think that about sums it up – but I remember… no-one could really understand him. Top of his class, always up for awards, but people thought he was a little weird. Come rain or shine, he’d always be in that corner seat with a screwdriver basically glued to his hand. And we didn’t have a clue what he was building.”

He seems wistful, thinking back to that time. 

“When I finally asked him what it was, at the end of maybe… 2 semesters,” He smiles, one that deepens his dimples and brushes the corners of his eyes. “He finally told us. It was a… a fucking arena for all the stupid stuff we built. He’d really thought it through, too: all our equipment would get jumbled up, so he made little boxes and sections to separate them in. There was an LED pad he’d programmed to keep a scoreboard. It was made out of this… self-healing vinyl so we wouldn’t need to replace it too often. He got so excited when he was explaining it all; about how it folded up so we could bring it with us when we changed classrooms, and… honestly, I think they still have it there.”

He sighs. “I think that’s all he knows how to do, y’know. That’s the language he speaks, the only one he really understands. Taking care of people, giving them what they need. You’re barely friends with Miguel, then all of a sudden he’s giving you hangover cures cooked up in his kitchen, and cussing you out in the morning, ‘cus you went a little too ham after a breakup. Or…he’s bringing pizza to your apartment at 3 in the morning, ‘cus he knew you were lying about being okay after your Uncle’s funeral.”

He’s got a faraway look in his eyes, an absentminded hand in May’s. Her stubby fingers curl around his, and then he’s back, snapped out of that distant daydream.

“Give it time. He’s been through some shit. Miguel’s got layers, like–”

“Like an onion?” You offer, weakly.

“No, no. Like one of those cheese wheel things that May likes so much. With.. with the wrapper and the waxy red stuff on the..?” He handwaves it away. “Forget it. MJ knows what they’re called.”

~~~

You put your back into helping set up. You don't quite get the theme, but Lyla explains it all whilst you hang the contents of those boxes on the wall: a maximalist, hedonistic mish-mash of food, drink and decor. She wants it to feel like if Gatsby three raves, and actually fucked that sad twink – whatever that means. The visual representation of an orgasm, but classy, she says. More, more, more; and if your back doesn't hurt by the end of it, then it's not enough. 

She's got you hauling ass across her front room, draping fabric and moving furniture like it's your job. Ben arrives and between the four of you (five, if you include May clambering on decor), it's all done. You can't help but think she's done a great job: the whole room decked out to look like the cover of an expensive wedding in Vogue – excessive but in a way that's only classy when rich people hire someone else to do it. Lush fabric in lieu of streamers draped on the walls, balloons sculpted into arches and tastefully dotted around the floor. The theme is black and white, with hints of gold, and gentle strings of pearl hang from ceilings and walls. It looks good, because it has to; Lyla's made you move everything around about a million times. 

Gleefully, she rubs her hands together, turning to all of you. "Food's going to be here in 10, I think. You guys get changed and I'll double check when Miguel's bringing the cake."

Peter and Ben disperse into various rooms – with Peter noticeably rubbing his back, May on his arm. You're left with Lyla, awkwardly looking towards her for guidance. 

"...get changed?" You look down at your woefully casual outfit. It seems you've come completely unprepared. 

"Yep. Miggy didn't tell you about the dress code?" 

…it's becoming increasingly difficult to cut your roommate some slack. With everything that's happened, rather conveniently, he's neglected to make any mention of a dress code. 

Sheepishly, you start, "I didn't know, shit –" 

Lyla cuts you off and brings a hand up to silence you. Bouncing on her toes, she's almost giddy with excitement. 

"I know exactly what you can wear!" 

She leads you upstairs to her room. You perch on her bed; and whilst you grapple with the fact that she even has an upstairs, you lose her in the deep depths of a walk-in. Lyla rummages through almost cartoonishly; wading through fur and leather and giant coats like an explorer hacking through dense forest. Eventually, she resurfaces, waving a bundle of white fabric. She hands it to you with a grin. 

She gives you some room, pushing you through the double doors of her closet to get changed. The dress feels amazing on: well-made, thick fabric and endlessly snug in all the right places. In the mirror, you marvel at how such a simple garment transforms you: a silky slip that stops about mid thigh, draped beautifully on your shoulders, and hugging your hips like a glove. There's a little slit at the side that stops just a bit higher than you'd usually be comfortable with, but… it works. Incidentally, your makeup and hair compliments the look; soft and pretty and–

You hear a small gasp from behind the door. Lyla's got her head peeking out into the room, and then she's at your side with a gentle hand on your arm. She spins you around in front of the mirror. 

"You look…" Her eyes light up, marvelling at you. " Gorgeous. You have to keep it."

"No, I can't… I won't . I was already underdressed, and this must have been expensive. I can't."

"No shit, of course it was expensive. But that's not a good enough reason… I barely wear it, and I've got more than enough clothes. Keep it ." She's smiling, head just over your shoulder in the mirror. 

"It's not too much…?" 

"Honestly, babe, it's not enough." She giggles. "D'you like it?" 

It feels weird to look at yourself like this, dolled up and pretty – contrasting how you've felt in the past few months. It feels like you've been in survival mode; exhausted and perpetually tired. On, all the time, and sick with worry about one thing or the other. You've forgotten to take care of yourself, and as a result, this feels different. 

Lyla notices: the way you stand up a little straighter and adjust your hair; the way you try your hardest to clamp down a smile. Do you like it? Slowly but surely, you nod. 

"You're allowed to like it, y'know," She says, softly. "You look happy. You look good. "

You believe it, when she says it. You let that feeling carry you down the stairs; one hand on the railing and Lyla babbling away with an arm looped around yours. 

~~~

Miguel is late – really late .

He was meant to be at Lyla'a about an hour and a half ago, which means he's rushing to get the cake. For once, at least that goes smoothly; and he picks up a little red velvet affair, piped to perfection and with " Happy 27th, Jess!" written on its face. It keeps him company on the way to the party, sitting snug on the passenger's seat as he drives more carefully than before. He figures it's better to be safe than sorry; already this late, there's no need to add cake smasher to the list. 

The day's been draining, and he wants nothing more than to curl up in bed with his favourite podcast. He knows his friends like the back of his hand, and knows that when Lyla says a small celebration for Jess, just a house party ; what she means is going the whole 9 yards, an excess of food and drink and disgustingly expensive decor, all for the sake of a birthday. He's had a glimpse of the guest list, and recognises about half of the people there – Lyla's too friendly for her own good, he thinks. He'd tried to talk her out of it, knowing Jess would be more than up for a smaller dinner, but she had her mind set. And it's impressive, what she's no doubt managed to achieve in the past few weeks of meticulous planning. 

Nevertheless, it's not something he has the energy for, right now. Work had been a slog; and he'd had a couple hours of lectures before a meeting with his thesis supervisor – where she had ripped his outline to shreds, frankly. He's still sore from that verbal lashing, but fears the one he'll get from Lyla more, if he doesn't come. 

And… and there's you, headstrong and stubborn and insisting on attending; even though he had made it abundantly clear you were under no obligation to do so. It must be out of spite, he thinks. But with the dress code, he can't help but daydream as to what you'd look like; maybe, a pretty little dress on, hair done a bit different, and… ohhh fuck. He didn't tell you about the dress code. 

He's gripping the steering wheel, annoyed at himself for such a little slip up. And it's not just the fact that he's forgotten; but he knows, considering the past few days, you might take it the wrong way. He's not stupid ; he knows he's been wishy-washy, all because it's hard to decide how he wants you or if he should. More than anything, he feels guilt; getting you high and oh-so close to fucking you, just the way you deserve, and then… he can't. It's hard to explain, and even harder for him to wrap his head around. That logical part of him screaming: you can't fuck your roommate without consequences. But he's already had a glance into Pandora's box, a taste of that sweet fruit – of temptation , strong and heady. 

It's that taste left in his mouth, of something sweet, that lingers when he walks into the party. The door's open, but even from down the hallway he can feel it: the rattle and shake of pumping music. He squeezes himself in, dodging the mass of bodies packed into the main room. The lights are low, music loud and the celebration well underway. More than anything, he's hoping it's so busy he can just show his face for a bit, and then slip out. 

He towers over other people, shuffling past, giving a nod or hello to all the people that slap his back and greet him. A scattered chorus of 'Hi' s and 'S'up, Miguel's, and then he's placing the cake on the counter, pushing past half-empty drinks and beer bottles. He snatches one up, looking around. He's watching for the furred collar that Lyla's no doubt wearing, or mousy brown in the neon lights; but with the pumping mass of bodies, he can't see much. 

He's ready to check upstairs when the crowd parts, and he sees you ; swirling in the mass. It makes his chest bloom with heat; you're gorgeous, dressed in white like an angel and smiling in a way he's never seen before. And then, his heart stops as someone else comes into view: another man, somewhat taller than you. There's an arm wrapped around your waist, and the man dances up against you in a way that makes something cold and bitter flare up within him. Miguel stays glued to the spot, for some reason, unable to take his eyes off of you: illuminated in the light, beautiful and flowing like a spectre. And like nails on a chalkboard, all he can do is watch as you dance up against someone else. 

His mouth goes dry, and then he's making a beeline for the double doors at the back; a glassy entrance to a balcony tucked away. The air is stifling in there, but when he's on the balcony, finally, he's able to breathe. 

There's someone nursing a brightly coloured drink, in its corner. Jess, big hair braided back and a velvety red jumpsuit on. She turns at the clatter of the door opening, before bursting into a wide smile. 

" Miguel!" She cheers, enveloping him in a hug. 

"Hey," He smiles warmly, sinking into her arms.  "Happy birthday, Jess."

"Thank you, kindly." She curtsies, producing a faux southern twang and laughing all the same. Then, she wags a finger at the man in front of her. "You're late . "

He rubs his temples. "I.. I know."

"Lyla's gonna fucking kill you. "

"I know."

She gives him a playful punch. "You okay, over there?" 

He gives her a rueful smile. "Yeah, Jess. Of course. When am I ever not okay?" 

"I've got a list, big guy, but we'll be here all day." 

She laughs and Miguel glances over through the glass; drawn to you even now. The song's changed, a bass line that rattles the panes, and you're still glued to that guy . Just as quickly, he looks away. 

With a front row view to that display, Jess raises an eyebrow. She follows his gaze, connecting the dots. 

" Oh. " Her voice is gentle. "S'that her?" 

" Her?" Miguel echoes.

" Her . Your roommate. The one Lyla says you're fucking."

"You and I both know– " 

"Okay, okay, maybe she didn't say those exact words…. but there's something there, for sure."

"Not possible . " He says it plainly, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. 

She leans against the railing, taking a careful sip of her drink. 

"Xina says you're doing stupid shit to impress her. Peter says you're making heart eyes whenever she's in the room. Ben says– "

"Xina? What's she got to do with anything?" He's deflecting, Jess notes. Miguel, usually so quick with the sarcasm, and he's refusing to touch the other half of what she said. 

"...you're tutoring half of her classmates."

He purses his lips. "Yeah, but I didn't think –" 

"...you didn't think girls would talk?" She splutters. Of course it sounds stupid, when she puts it like that. 

"Yeah, well, Xina's still not talking to me , so…" He trails off, shaking his head. 

"It's almost as if you broke her heart into a million tiny pieces, Mig." She rolls her eyes. "Get your head out of your ass, man." 

She turns to face the city and Miguel does the same, with a heavy sigh. It's quiet for a moment, with only the sound of cars below and dull thrum of speakers behind to keep them company. He's always liked this, he thinks. A moment of calm with Jess, the only sane person for miles around. They're able to sit in comfortable silence, in a half-minute that transcends words. 

He reaches into his front pocket, pulling out a little parcel that's wrapped up in red paper. He nudges Jess, handing the present over. 

"Happy birthday." 

She smiles, tearing into the little package. Then she stops halfway, heart melting at what peeks through. 

" Miguel… " She coos, a hand on his arm to steady herself. Out of the packing paper, she produces two little boots; red and blue and made of soft wool. "How did you…?" 

"It wasn't obvious, but… sick in the mornings, switching to soda when we go out to a bar…" He allows himself a smile. "And I asked what's-his-face, just to be sure."

"See, I can't tell if you actually don't know my husband's name or–" She cuts herself off with watery laughter. "F-Forget it. Fuck, I'm gonna cry all this makeup off,"

He takes a sharp intake of air. "They were… mamá made them." 

"Thank you, oh God . I know how much this–" 

He cuts her off with a hand wave, as if to say; don't worry about it. "Sorry I couldn't come to the wedding. Your husband seems nice, and he treats you well. Although , he's kind of–" 

" Corny . Yeah, we get that a lot." She's half laughing, half crying, fanning her face to stop her mascara from running. 

He wraps a big arm around her, pulling Jess into his side. Happy tears, he hopes as she blubbers. 

"I think m'getting too old for this… we don't see each other enough, lately… a-and I would've been happy with the dinner, then Lyla told me there was an emergency over here–" 

"She did good. Really good. Don't tell her I said that, though."

She nods, bringing a finger to her lips with a smile. "And you don't tell the other's about…"

"Of course not. When you're ready, Jess."

"I love you, man." She grins wide, and Miguel returns it with one of his own; an increasingly rare megawatt smile. It quickly falls with her next words. 

"If you ever tell anyone I said that, I'll break your kneecaps and blame it on the hormones." 

She grabs his beer, opening it with her teeth, and hands it back to him. A little scared, Miguel takes a healthy swig. 

"Oh, shit. " Jess exclaims, batting his arm. "I completely forgot. Lyla's got some stupid games on, upstairs."

"Who with?" 

"The usual suspects, Mig – though Peter's long gone and… I don't even know where Ben goes, actually. But you can bring your girlfriend up, if you promise not to eyefuck her across the room."

" Gross , Jess."

She raises a hand up in surrender, leading the way back inside. 

~~~

Miguel's here all of a sudden, and in a moment you thought would be more of a bang ; you lock eyes with him as Jess herds you upstairs. It's less of a sharp pain at the ribs and more of a crescendo; pooling warmth spreading to fingers and toes. He's still in his work clothes: crisp white shirt with a couple buttons undone, and black trousers. A little formal, and yet, he doesn't feel out of place; wearing the monochrome of the dress code, and looking twice as good as any man in the room. Somehow, you've forgotten how tall he is; lumbering over everyone else as he cuts between the crowd. He snakes behind you, giving you a strange look as you walk up the stairs. All of a sudden, you're weary of your dress, tugging down its hem as best you can. Miguel stays behind you, a gentle hand at the small of your back. 

"You're okay," He whispers, sending shivers down your spine. " I've got you ."

He doesn't mean it like that , but it's too easy for you to close your eyes and imagine what it could be; words he kissed into skin when you're on top, struggling to take his length. 

You ignore that coil tightening at the pit of your stomach, choosing instead to focus on Lyla stumbling through the door,  trademark pink shades slipping down her nose. Behind her, there's a little sitting room; plush furniture and a massive tv – with quite a few consoles in the corner, you note. She shouts your name, barely audible over the music. 

" – oh, and hi, Miguel!" She's too drunk to be mad, and you don't notice Miguel visibly relaxing. She takes your hand, calling over to Jess just behind you. "We saved you a mocktail, J."

Taking your seat, you settle down next to Lyla; perching with your legs crossed on the seat. Miguel sits some way away, on the opposite side of your makeshift circle, clearly trying not to make eye contact. Jess elbows him, and he turns to her, before having a heated argument; all hushed whispers and hand gestures. It's the most animated he's been in the past week, for sure… 

"We're playing Never Have I Ever, Jess! Like back in college."

The woman in question rolls her eyes, giving a flash of pretty dimple. Back in college, Lyla says, when they'd drink cheap beer and spill their guts in dive bars – a tradition Jess wasn't too upset to see go. She didn't have the stomach for it then, and she doesn't now; but it probably wouldn't hurt to relive some of that fun. 

It's a warmup round, so to speak; a strong drink thrust into your hands. You take turns going around the circle, starting off relatively tame. First, it's Never have I ever skipped a class. Everyone, all college aged or older, drinks to that one. It's practically a given. And then someone chips in with Never have I ever broken a bone . Again, most people drink – taking advantage of the freebies to get a little tipsy. 

It's Lyla that throws out the juicy ones, after a couple of duds. 

" Never have I ever faked an orgasm." She says it from behind her glass, giggling. 

Less people drink, this time. Sheepishly, you raise your glass, taking a healthy gulp. Lyla takes the opportunity to gasp, clutching at her chest and fanning her forehead dramatically. 

You're whispering back, half laughing and half telling her off, "That's not that weird, Ly. Hasn't everyone…?"

"Not me. How's your partner meant to know it's shit if you fake it?" 

It's her sincerity that makes you laugh; wide-eyed and completely incredulous. You're clamping down the giggles when you look around, immediately locking eyes with Miguel. He gives you an odd look, as if amused. 

You're up next, and roll up metaphorical sleeves. "Never have I ever had a threesome. "

There's murmuring around the room, and a couple of people take a drink. Lyla does, with glee, and someone else you don't quite know the name of. What surprises you, however, is when Miguel takes a swig; eyes locked onto yours. 

You feel heat rising, blinking away as best you can. You still feel his gaze, of course. That game of chicken, the one you've so desperately been trying to avoid, rears its ugly head. You think Miguel is winning. 

The questions get more and more provocative. Never have I ever been pegged… or pegged someone else. Lyla drinks, Jess takes a gulp of her fruity mocktail…. and so does Miguel. Never have I ever been cheated on. Most people drink to this one, including yourself. A shitty teen relationship barely counts, you suppose; but you're taking every opportunity for a drink right now. 

Never have I ever cheated on someone. One or two people drink, and at least they have the decency to be ashamed. When Miguel drinks, however, you shift in your seat. Something settles within you, discontent. Yet again, your image of the man in front of you changes. For someone who sleeps around, maybe it's not too much of a stretch for him to cheat ; but the word feels so final, too cruel. It doesn't match up, for some reason, with your Miguel, who brings you piping hot noodles and hot water bottles on a bad day. 

This time, he doesn't meet your eye. 

Lyla decides she's bored, bouncing on the balls of her feet. 

"New game – truth or dare!" There's faux groans from around the room. Lyla sticks a tongue out, ignoring them, and continues. "Jess, as the birthday girl… you get first pick."

Jess lights up, gorgeous , with the hoops at her ears swinging to and fro when she looks around. You haven't spoken much to her, but she seems like good fun; making a whole song and dance of picking the first victim. 

It's obvious, in hindsight, who she'd pick. There's only one person in the room visibly squirming, almost sweating , at the idea of something so out of his control. 

" Miguel," She says, turning to the man sinking into cushions. "Truth or dare?" 

He gives her a look, and she combats it with one of her own; the kind that could melt steel beams, and says It's my birthday, don't be a dick. 

" Dare ." He grits his teeth. 

"I dare you," She pauses for dramatic effect. "...to show us your porn watch history." 

Imperceptible, his eyes flash towards you. You notice , mouth dry. He groans. "We're not 19 anymore, Jess. It's childish. I'm a grown ass man–" 

" Truth or Dare , Mig."

"Truth." It's quick – which is very reasonable, considering her tone. 

"When was the last time you fucked someone?" 

Everyone turns to Miguel. He's looking at you, of course, wincing at the words he's about to say. 

"I don't…" He's swirling the beer bottle in his hand, and then he shrugs noncommittally. "I don't know. A… month, maybe."

" Bullshit!" Someone whisper-shouts, and then there's some laughter. 

Jess' eyebrows jump up, and Miguel bats her concerns away, whispering something under his breath. You can't quite catch it but his body language is clear: don't ask. He downs the rest of his drink, lips around the bottle, as some liquid trails down the side of his jaw. You're watching, unrepentantly obvious, and he catches your gaze. Without breaking eye contact, he swipes a finger to the liquid and licks it up.

Heart racing, you force yourself to look away and try to concentrate on the next few dares. The circle seems to have moved on, more interested in whatever juicy shit they can drag up in the next poor victim. 

You've all but zoned out when it's the turn of Jun, egged on by a couple of friends. You frown. He's that guy you were dancing with earlier, caught up in heady music and swirling lights. Jun is handsome, in that famous starlet kind of way; square-jawed, pretty eyes, and dark, cropped hair. Boy wonder is lean-lined with a nice smile; the very same that had reeled you in on the dancefloor. Maybe it's the liquor, but you think he's looking at you now; raking sharp eyes over your figure. 

"How do you know him?" You whisper to Lyla. 

She cups a hand to your ear, more than halfway to being absolutely wasted. 

"Used t-to work with him. He's nice enough, I think…? There was a rumour around the office; and apparently, he's got a massive di-" 

"Truth or dare?" Someone says. 

"Dare. Obviously." He flashes a smile in your direction. 

You squirm, and Lyla shines with realisation. 

"Oh my God." She whispers, and then she's interrupting before you can stop her. "Makeout with the hottest girl in the room. A proper one, tongue and teeth and–" 

You elbow her, square in the ribs. Thankfully, she takes the hint. Jun cocks his head, as if mulling it over. He gets up. 

Your head spins with the drink, and you're concentrating on keeping your sneakers flat on the ground. Head down, you don't notice the man walking over. He crouches, tapping your knee. 

"Oh." You say, blinking up at him. "Hi, again."

"Hi, again." He smiles. It's like you're the only two in the room, and with the way he looks at you, eyes darting to your lips… "Can I kiss you?" 

The words get caught in your throat, so you nod, fumbling. 

He places a hand to your chin, gently pushing you closer and then you're kissing; sweet and gentle. You separate, and you open your eyes to find his blown . You've got tunnel vision: his lips are pretty and wonderfully swollen – you just can't help it. 

You go back in again, parting your lips to let him in. He's cradling your jaw, tracing a hand up your thigh and it feels good. Closing your eyes, you sink into the heady haze of booze, grabbing at his shoulders. They're not as broad as Miguel's, and Jun isn't as clean shaven. When you snake a hand to the nape of his neck; it's rougher than your roommate's hair, cropped into a boyish cut instead of Miguel's gentle curl. Sighing, you both come up for air, and you're almost disappointed at the distinct lack of red-brown blinking back at you. 

Nails on a chalkboard, and you're back in the room. You look around to amused faces, catching Lyla wide-eyed besides you. Jun's cheeky, placing a quick peck to the side of your mouth before sitting down. From your vantage point, you're scared to look, to really look , in fear of what you'll see. 

Miguel, in the corner, with a white hot grip on his beer bottle. Catching that stormy gaze, something just clicks. Something resembling power, absolutely intoxicating, that heady rush you got from kissing someone else. Or, more accurately, getting a reaction from your roommate. Notoriously unwavering, and yet … he reveals a gap in his armour. A silent swipe to the ribs that doesn't kill, but draws blood. 

People are dispersing now, growing tired of the games. Lyla darts off; with the attention span of an excited pomeranian, and the excessive alcohol, she's already lost interest. You take a breather, sinking into plush cushions and catch Miguel's eye. In the commotion, he's tossing his beer and walking up to you, as if gearing up to say something. 

Someone sits into the seat besides you: tall and handsome, but definitely not Miguel. It's Jun, who smells like fresh flowers and cut grass, nudging your side. 

"You're good at that," He says, with a little smile. 

"Good at what?" You say, confused. 

"That kiss." He seems a little bashful, probably sobering up. "It was… good. "

"Not…" You're distracted, eyes flicking over to find Miguel. He's gone. "Not my best work, I think."

He stretches an arm around the back of the sofa, caging you in a little closer, and all you can do is blink up at him. 

"....you want to try again?" 

He's handsome. He's flirting . And he's present; able to give you clear signs that he wants you. It's more than a certain someone can provide, and you're left with a deep-seated need that no-one else seems to be able to fulfill. Four words ring out in your head, clanging around like pinball. You. Might. Get. Laid. 

It's enough to have you leaning up against Jun, a hand tracing circles in his thigh and fluttering your lashes as best you can. Hopefully it's a look that's says seductive, and not pink-eye. This far into the night, you don't quite have the energy to care. 

Heavy petting and drunk giggling; you spend God knows how long in that little room, whispering stupid shit to each other. You introduce yourself, and so does he. A brief overview of your life; and you find yourself desperately trying to skip the small talk. Jun works with computers. You're a student. Jun is very good with his hands. You're a visual learner. Everything seems to fall into place. 

Soon enough, you're swapping numbers and leading him out the door to somewhere more private . His apartment ; you find yourself hoping, as you make your way downstairs. 

He's draping a jacket on your shoulders, and you wade through the crowd. The lights are spinning a little less, you find, holding onto Jun's palm. In that great big room; people packed in like black and white sardines; all you're looking for is something to tether yourself to – or someone. Relationships, you've learnt, were overrated. You're young, and single, and gorgeous ; able to bag whoever you want. And what do you want? A hookup, clearly; something simple and uncomplicated, without the mess of feelings to untangle yourself from in the morning. 

There's a commotion from a corner of the room, and Jun pulls you back; craning his head to see. A jumble of people, crowded around the epicentre. He nods towards the bustle. 

"Isn't that Miguel?" He shouts over the bass, and your eyes widen.

You push past, trying to get a better look. Flashing lights, pumping music. In the red and blue and black, he's there ; hand wiping a bloodied nose. He's saying something; and a couple of guys surround Miguel, giving rough shoves and shouting something you can't hear. Someone throws a punch and he takes it, barely shifting at the continuous blows. 

It's a sobering sight, and you're worried; looking left and right at the onslaught of bystanders.

"Why isn't he fighting back ?" You say, barely audible. No-one's doing anything but watching; one or two even pulling their phones out to record. The sight makes you sick, and you're shouting his name, trying to get closer. Like a gunshot, sudden and sharp and cutting through the noise, he locks eyes with you. His eyes dark, with that same look he gave you not too long ago. 

Another cruel kick, and he's down on one knee, clutching at his stomach. You notice the broken glass, the blood in his shirt. He's goading them, and still , he refuses to fight back. 250 pounds soaking wet and at least 6"5; he's a fucking killer – and everyone knows it. Why won't he fight back?

There's a pounding at your skull, and something deep and dark and complicated that twists around your insides, threatening to rise up – and then.. and then… 

The lights are turned on, and the music stops. Lyla's at the stairs shouting obscenities; telling everyone to get the fuck out, or I'm calling the cops. 

People disperse out the doors, but only a few rush towards Miguel. You do, of course, and then Jess is by his side to help him up. He must look worse than he feels because despite the bruising and pouring blood; he pinches the bridge of his nose like he always does, as if it's just a headache. He's laughing ; the smug bastard; incisors sharp and dangerous and flashing pearly white. Your heart's still racing; betraying complicated feelings. As the last dregs drip out of Lyla's apartment, you're all left to deal with the aftermath. 

Jess looks shaken, Lyla's sobering up; and you're holding Miguel's hand, elbow deep in the oil spill. 

_

_

_

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[erosiism]

SACRIFICE | YANDERE DUKE X M!READER

prompt: the moment you sacrifice your life for him | reader is childhood friends with claude (OC), both are planning a rebellion to usurp the throne.

character(s): duke, you

warnings(s): slight blood

note(s): male reader, second person, past tense, not beta read, excerpt from my fic on wattpad, to make amends

FIND MORE MOMENTS OF CLAUDE AND THE READER HERE.

When planning a rebellion, assassination attempts are inevitable. This time round, another bout of mercenaries have come, demanding your blood. Demanding the Duke’s blood—Claude’s blood.

The arrows had nicked your skin, but it hadn't been serious. "It's fine. And besides, it's nothing to worry about. I won't ask for much, Claude—I do not need such things in the light of such situations. I'm realistic. If I have to die for you to be Emperor, so be it."

You assumed you had asked out of obligation—a lover's obligation, if you will. You assumed that this was the answer he had wanted to hear.

You had gravely mistaken.

"...What?" Claude's voice was the most strangled, the coldest you had heard. "What are you talking about?"

You paused. "...Why do you look so angry?"

"I told you to stop sacrificing yourself for me, Y/n, I told you. Is everything I say to you a joke? Do you not care when you get injured or when you suffer? You promised me you wouldn't be so careless."

"I don't get why you seem so furious." With the current situation and your mounting weariness, your tone has become sharp. Cutting. "It's common sense. Get a grip. You want the crown, so there are sacrifices you have to make."

"I don't want the crown."

You smiled hysterically. "Don't jest."

"Not if you are going to sacrifice yourself." Claude said stubbornly.

Your eyes finally stopped roving around the area to focus on him. "Don't be idiotic. I've worked for this my whole fucking life and now you don't want it?"

"Y/n," Claude started, "once we get back to the manor, I'll immediately issue a—"

"No!" You found your voice raising, "you don't get it. So what now? I'm the fucking fool who has been wasting my whole life on a goal that you don't even want? You don't want to be Emperor? So what? Have you been stringing me along, and have I been following you like some kind of blind person?"

"Y/n," Claude whispered. "We can talk more later. For now—!"

"—No, Claude. Take those words back." You murmured, "I thought you were tired of regret. You said it yourself when you told me you loved me. So why are you saying things you're going to regret?" You asked wearily, "why?"

"I love you."

You opened your mouth, about to retort. 

Then you saw a flurry of motion. 

Something in your brain clicked, and before you could fully process your own actions, your mind had acted before your body. Your eyes had caught the final assassin — but he was already holding an arrow, the string pulled, the target right towards Claude. You saw flashes of him in his death, bleeding out, dying, last words disappearing from his lips.

There was a high chance of either of you being killed: but it was all a gamble — a risk you were willing to take.

You pushed him to the side, and the both of you tumbled away. The arrow narrowly missed Claude—and burst of mana came forth from his fingertips. There was one last cry of agony that came from the assassin, before he died. Meanwhile Claude held you close to him, the both of you shuddering.

He stilled.

You two were so very near the edge. Your legs were dangling off, your body limp in weariness. Beneath you the edge of the cliff had started to crack, little by little, spiderweb fissures forming.

"Y/n," he spoke desperately. His fingers were slippery from blood. "Quickly. Take my hand. Quickly."

"And bring you down with me?" You laughed, "no."

"Y/n."

You looked at him then, stubbornly. "All of your life you said you wanted to be Emperor."

"Not if it means you sacrificing yourself, like you are now." His fingers were clambering at yours. He was holding your hand like it was a lifeline. You could feel yourself dragging him towards the precipice. Soon your hands would let go and you would plummet with him.

He had to become Emperor.

Or was that your dream, and not his dream?

"Let go."

"No."

"I'll make this easier for us," you said calmly, "I despise you, Claude. I hate you. So now let go."

Claude shook his head. "I love you."

You looked at him. Your pulse was ebbing with his. Death would free you from the torment of parting with him. You had talked about him to countless of others like he had made this universe, like he had aligned the stars. You loved him selfishly, greedily. 

Your other hand reached out to clasp his hand. The cliff was starting to crack. If you didn't act now, you would both be dead.

Claude's eyes widened. With brute force—the last bit of energy you could muster—you wrenched your hand out of his—shoved him from the blossoming cracks and to even ground—and the last thing you saw was his tortured expression as you plummeted down and the edge broke off from the cliff. 

"Y/n!"

You wanted more of Claude. In your mind you were dressing and adorning him with light; you were wrapping him with blankets of devotion, acceptance. You had given yourself to him. You longed for him, in the ways you had never longed for anyone else. You were absorbed in his warmth, his love, and you really, utterly, devoutly—longed for every bit of him. 

"I despise you," you murmured. The second seemed to blur as you awaited excruciating pain. 

Almost like a plea to yourself. You knew what the words really translated to.

You despised the Gods.

like/reblog! comments are always appreciated

[heartofmortis]

✶ Lionheart

Robb Stark x (Baratheon/Lannister!) Reader

TAGS: friends to enemies to lovers, slow burn, one bed, childhood friends, arranged marriage, female rage, eventual smut, hurt/comfort, canon compliant (boooo!), major character death

NOTE: so this is also an oc fic on wp, but i wanted to try out something new! in rewriting to second person, some edits have been made. there will be no y/n, and there are other ocs in this fic (since that’s what i usually write) and reader does have some physical descriptions.

i’m in suchhhhh a robb stark brainrot atm, this is how i’m coping 🫶

TIMELINE: season / book one onwards. a mix of show & book canon!

SUMMARY: A soft heart is no curse.

You are nothing like your parents. Your mother’s first-born, most deeply adored. Born in the ashes of a victorious rebellion, you are the brightest spring child in King’s Landing. Free as the breeze whistling through the trees, love burns in your veins like sun rays. (You’re too good for this world, your mother whispers as she holds her daughter close. No one will hurt you. You’re safe here with me.)

The Pearl of King’s Landing, they called you. Sun-bright and untouchable. To be beloved by the Smallfolk is a rare gift, and you bear it proudly. A little doe beside your father, a great stag, and your mother-lion.

A soft heart is no curse. You believe it until you spend a month travelling north with your family, a trip that spins your world on its axis, and won’t let you come home. When you are left alone in a vast castle with no true company, your pretty heart can only be a curse. No one trusts a naive girl raised in the lion’s den — not even when steel cuts across your palms, blood soaking your fingers as you try to protect a boy you hardly know. Your mother was the only one who allowed you to be yourself. (The North does not find courage in the kindness of princesses.)

Your soft heart is a curse until the day Robb Stark takes it in his hands and promises to keep it safe.

Against a thousand odds, in a moment of peace within a storm of chaos, he finally accepts you. And you feel like you belong for the first time since you left the safety of the Red Keep. (No one will hurt you here with me. I’ll protect you.)

A soft heart is a beauty on a battleground. A light in the dark, an anchor. Undying, and calling for your love to come home safe. Alive. But a soft heart is only pretty until it bleeds. Until it rains. Until it screams. Until you want to claw it from your chest and throw it to the lions who claim to love you.

(Your soft heart, devoured by the Young Wolf, rots beside him.)

wattpad / playlist

━━ ACT ONE; northern attitude

prologue / posted 11.10.24

chapter one / posted 21.10.24

& more coming soon!

[ja3hwa]

𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭 | 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐢 𝐒𝐚𝐧

【Synopsis】 : After the couple of nights teasing and testing the waters. San finally makes a plan to corrupt your sweet mind once and for all.

『Word count』 : 2.27k

-> Genre: Smut. Fluff. 

Paring: Idol!San x Female!Reader 

[Warnings] : Cursing. Cyberpunk outfit san (yes, this is a warning) some insecure thoughts. Dirty talk. Foreplay. Kinda shy reader. Virgin reader. Corruption kink. Pet names. Fingering (f receiving). Unprotected sex. (Dont do that).

Note : Thank you for the requester from Wattpad for this. They asked for a part two to my bend fic with a cyberpunk outfit twist... So I hope you enjoy it. Also, I'm trying out a knew layout, so ignore me, hehe.

Masterlist | Navigation | Part One

Frustration and fear would be the only things to describe your emotions right now. After the little sexual activities San and You had performed four nights ago, you couldn’t help but play it in detail over and over in your mind. You wanted, needed, fuck, you craved it. you were going to go insane if you didn’t have another taste of San. And he was not helping, sending you not so safe for work texts or sending photos of his very sexy stage outfits for his performances he and his members have been doing since the comeback happened. What is worse about seeing your boyfriend in such gorgeous outfits is that you are unable to touch him in them. Once he is home, he is already washed up, make up free and outfit gone.

You couldn’t lie when you said you had fantasies of San fucking the living day lights out of you in one of the outfits, especially the Cyberpunk ones. The black crop top, black straps and fake Anarchy symbol tattoo that was displayed on your boyfriends lower tummy. You needed him so badly. But then the shyness comes in, you couldn’t possibly tell him what you wanted. Tell him how much you wanted to feel his cock poun―

“Darling. You awake?” San’s sweet voice echoed through the house, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“In here...” You couldn’t say anything else as you voice cracked. You could feel your heart beat in your ears and your legs wobbled as you tried to walk over to the door of your bedroom. San had turned you on that much, you felt embarrassed that you were that weak for him.

“Hey my baby. Why are you in here?” His voice was drowned out by the fuzziness in your brain suddenly turning up, ten-fold. He was in one of his stage outfits, more specifically, cyberpunk one. Oh no this is not going to end well..

“S-Sannie, w-hy are you wearing that?” You completely disregarded his question, asking one of your own instead. San tilted his head in innocence, looking down at himself before letting out a small chuckle follow by his classic feline smile.

“oh this? Yeah, I have to wear this outfit tomorrow for a photo shoot. So I made a suggestion that I wear it home since I need to tomorrow. It also saves the stylist in trying to find it later.” His ramble did not help the heat growing in your stomach. His voice was so low and raspy from singing all day. You can even see a little form of sweat coating him from the performances. He was a Greek god amongst men. And he was yours.

“Are you okay baby? You keep going quiet?” He took a step forward become only a couple centimeters from your trembling body. Sometimes you think you are living in a dream, how could someone like San be with you? He was sculpted like a porcelain statue and aging like a fine vintage wine. You were plan, normal. Nothing special. How could you end up together.

“Earth to y/n. Come in Darling?” He shook his hands in front of your blushed red face. You finally looked up to him, seeing how close his face was to yours. “Are you okay?” He asked again, rubbing his hand along your frame until it found place against your hip.

“I…Yeah. I’m fine. I’m sorry.” You apologize for acting weird, but San kisses your forehead in protest, saying there was nothing to be sorry for. You hugged him for a moment, taking in his presence, making you feel better.

“So what do you think? I remember you like my outfits. But wasn’t this one like the second or fifth on your list?” His question made you gulp as you sat down on the edge of the bed, fearing you’d fall if you kept standing. He did a little twirl for you, stretching his arms up so he could show off the fit. He knew what he was doing. He knew this was your favourite stage fit, but he wanted to hear it from you directly. He needed to get praise from you. It was like a drug, and he craved it.

“Actually it’s my favourite outfit.” You whispered, biting your nails slightly while you unknowingly checked him out. He pretended as if he didn’t know with a little ‘oh’ slipping off his tongue.

“I have the fake―” He pulled the crop top up slightly so the tattoo could be put on full display. “You want to touch it?” His words came out desperately, making your eyes widen. You nodded like an idiot, watching your boyfriend walk closer to you so he could stand in between your legs. You were eye level with the fake tattoo, letting your fingers graze over it. His abs tensed at the feeling, a tingle in his gut growing.

“It looks so good on you.” You said without thinking.

“Yeah? That’s what you’re thinking?” His teasing nature erupted with the hint of greed. Call him weak, but if he had to, he would get on his knees and beg for you to praise him. Maybe he's got a praise kink, but that was a conversation he didn’t want to have. Not right now, anyway. Even though your brain was fuzzy, you could see the way San’s eyes sparkled when you spoke about him. You weren't as innocent as he thought. You might not know what to do in sexual situations, but to heck, if you didn’t know how to read a person. Especially San.

“I think the whole outfit looks good on you.” You spoke with a little more confidence, gripping the hem of his crop top tugging it, in hopes he got the hint. “You also look good if you have nothing on.”

It was like a switch went off in his mind. You, his innocent―well so he thought―partner basically asking him to take his clothes off. He sent you a devilish smirk, slowly guiding his hands up to the clips of his straps. You gulp feeling instant embarrassment from your statement.

“Is this what you wanted, baby? Wanted to see me naked?” His deep voice made your head dizzy, tucking your face in your hand to hide the blush that surely painted your face the moment he walked into the room. He shook the straps off, watching you intensely at your reaction of shyness. He lived to see the corruption fill your senses, so once he threw his straps somewhere in the room, he pounced. His lips latched to yours, making your head spin. His hand gripped the back of your neck to pull out closer. His knee pushed up against the bed, in between your legs, letting you grind slightly on his thick thigh.

“San…” you moan straight into his mouth, making him groan in response. His free hand that was found perched on your hip glided slowly towards your ache between your legs. His long fingers were quick to wrap around the small flimsy fabric known as you sleep shorts before pulling them off in one motion. You showed no fear, letting him grab your panties straight after so he could pull them off the same way. His lips never left yours through this whole moment, wanting to pamper you before he had his way.

“Pretty.” A word slipped off his tongue, making his mouth leave yours so it could latch on your jaw, then your neck. Sucking and biting at your hot flesh. You never felt such excitement, and you begin to crave it the more you feel your boyfriend’s tongue dancing on you.

As if he understood what your thoughts were saying, his brought on hand to the inner part of your left thigh. Finger tips dangerously close your soaked pussy. You whined, body trashing slightly as if it has a mind of it’s own. Like a primal instinct has taken over. You moan out his name twice, or was it four? You sounded like a broken record and San hadn't even touched you that much.

“My perfect baby. You sound so nice when you beg. But begging isn’t needed tonight. I’ll give you whatever you want…” His lips place kisses on your exposed stomach, sending chills down your spine. “…that’s if you tell me what you want. Come on, tell me, and it's yours. What do you want.”

You choked out another whimper, knowing San was going to pull something like this. He needed you to tell him exactly what you wanted. He needed to hear the filthy words leave your lips. He needed to know every detail that you fantisise in your pretty little head. “San…”

“What’s it baby? What do you need?”

“I want…” He sat completely up, moving back up so he was face to face with you so he could see your eyes flutter with the shyness as they slowly slipped into corruption. “I want you to fuck me. Please, make me feel good.”

“Fuck…” He groans, never seeing something as gorgeous as you asking him to rail you. He had surely died and gone to heaven. “Detail, what exactly do you want?” he needed more…

“I want you to fuck me with your outfit on.”

More…

“I want to feel you deep inside me.”

More…

“Please San if you don’t stick your cock inside me I’m going to scream.”

His brain short circuited, his hands and body moving like they were born to play with you. Stripping you from your pj’s entirely, his mouth latched on your hard nipple while his fingers slipped into your soaking hole with ease. He pumped quickly, bringing his thumb to your sensitive bud, circling it. Your hands fly to grip his shoulders, nails digging into the harsh fabric. Your head flew back, choking out his name over and name. His pace became faster, tilting his hand up so he could sink his fingers deeper inside you, pulling your orgasm closer within the seconds. “San I think I’m gonna…”

“let go for me, baby. I wanna feel you tighten around my fingers.” His dirty words tipped you over the edge, seeing white spots cloud your vision as you convulsed under him. You’ve never felt such an intense orgasm before in your life, feeling like you could walk through fire and not get burned. Once your high came down, he pulled out his soaked fingers slowly before taking them in his mouth, tasting your sweet juices. You panted, letting out a little whine while you watched your boyfriend.

“You ready for more?” His voice was deep, gravelled, but it was laced with love. One side of his brain was screaming, aching to pound you and fuck you into next week until you see stars or pass out, but the other side wanted to make sure your first time was comfortable. He needed to show you how fun sex can be, how loving it can be. And besides, he has all the time in the world to corrupt you.

“Yes…” you whispered, snaking your arms around his neck, pulling him down for a kiss. A smirk crept on his lips while they connected to yours, hand snaking down to grip the base of his cock so he could trail his tip along your folds. You took a large inhale, feeling a sense of excitement and worry. It was finally happening, you were finally going to go all the way. His tip slipped slightly into your enterance, making you wiggle in anticapation.

His dark chuckle that erupted from his chest made you roll you hips without thinking, feeling more of his cock slip inside. He took this as a green light, bottoming you out until you can feel his balls hit againsts your ass. Your nails dig into his shoulders feeling the painful sensation soon fade away into pure blissful pleasure. His thrusts started off slow, his hand snaked around your thigh pulling you closer. His lips felt yours and you tried to chase them―which made him laugh lightly―. He sat up pulling a pillow from beside you so he could place it under your hips. You watched him with curiousity, as he basically fluffed it before placing you onto the said folded pillow.

“Comfy.” His cheeky voice made your heart flutter as you replied with a small yes, following with a giggle. His hand pulled your legs to wrap around his waist, instructing you to lock them against him, which you did gladly. Your eyes gazed over his body from head to toe. Your eyes met the sight where your bodies were connected, and you couldn’t help but clench around him. “Like what you see, Doll?”

You bring your hands up to cover your face, groaning at him just freely being dirty in what seemed like a tender moment. He let out a chuckle at your reaction, leaning down you kiss between your breasts in order to distract you. His hands grip your hips, pulling you closer. His thrusts started to pick up again, making you seemingly forget about your embarrassment. Grunts escaped San’s lips, losing himself for a moment with your velvet walls tightening around him. “Does that feel good?” He smugly asked.

“Y-yes.” You panted, your chest heaving as yours nails dig lightly into his biceps.

“Good...” He suddenly fell to lay on his back, bringing you along with him. His head almost hangs off the bed, as he plants his feet behind you, bringing his knees up behind your back “Then ride me, baby.”

A whimper escaped your mouth as you slid back onto him with ease. You slide your hands down his chest, over his flat abs, feeling how they contracted under your touch. You started moving, finding the right rhythm, completely pushing away the shyness you felt before. You threw back your head, supporting yourself onto his thighs as you lose yourself in the moment of oure bliss. His hands gripped your hips, bucking his hips into you harder.

He sat up, his fingers digging harder in your flesh, bouncing you on his cock faster. He grunts against your throat, enveloping you in his arms, so he could hold you close as you wrap your arms around his neck, twisting your fingers in his hair. He knew he wouldn’t last much longer, so he needed to make sure he could let you cum before him. Few more thrusts and your body shakes in pleasure, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. Your walls flutter around him, triggering his release as he spills inside you with a muffled grunt lightly biting your shoulder.

“Perfect” He smiles, breathing against your heated skin, his fingers lazily running up and down your back. Tangling his fingers in your hair, finding your lips, he kissed you passionatly...

- ♡

[t43andbooks]

Pairing: kiribaku x reader

Wc: 2k

Note: I don’t post on tumblr but I kind wanted to start, so here is like my first fic… I hope it doesn’t give wattpad vibes.

————

Your eyes slowly fluttered open, it seems you’d be the first one to be awake today; you aren’t surprised though, Katsuki and Eijirou both had a grueling patrol the day before, lasting 12 hours. You decided last night that you would get up early in the morning to make breakfast for the two of them, they had deserved it of course. Rolling over slightly you checked the time, it had read ‘4:54’, maybe spending just a few extra minutes wouldn’t hurt, you’d like to admire the two men cuddled up to you and each other as well.

Katsuki’s nose was almost touching yours, his arms lying on the pillow, keeping his head up, there seemed to be drool running down the corner of his lip, seeping into the pillow. You couldn’t feel any sense of disgust though, you found him cute, you know he’d kill you if he ever heard you say that though. His leg was almost completely over you, subconsciously making sure that you’d stay put, a habit he had ever since high school. Eijirou was behind him, arm curled around yours and Katsuki’s waist, holding you both tightly. Low snores came from him, he always looked so comfortable like this, so at home, emphasized by his red locks, that usually were gelled up into spikes, now ran down his shoulders; he decided a long time ago, maybe in your third year, that he would grow his hair out and you can’t help but think he made a great choice, it framed his face beautifully.

You lifted your hand and brushed back a bit of Katsuki’s hair behind his ear, you knew it wouldn’t stay put because of how short it was but you did it anyways. Your fingers ghosted over his cheeks, not wanting to wake him up because of how light of a sleeper he was, then you landed a light, sweet kiss on his jaw. He moved slightly, still asleep, he hid his face in the crook of your neck, you almost cooed at him aloud before stopping yourself to look at Eijirou. No longer being hidden by Katsuki’s hair, you noticed he had a content look on his face, surely enjoying the warmth the both of you had given him.

This felt like heaven, giving you a deep nostalgic feeling that reminded you of the time you had first cuddled with them so closely.

You had just come out of the showers after a training session in the gym with Bakugo and Kirishima, Bakugo was the last one to go in so you and kirishima decided to wait until he was done. “I’m still going to try to get my skin even harder, like that one time when I was interning with fat gum!” Kirishima said with determination, “it’s not as hard to do anymore, but, making it last longer is another problem…heh!” He chuckled sheepishly.

“I’m sure that won’t be a problem, you’ll get it in no time.” You said reassuringly, even though Kirishima doesn’t make it known there have been a few times where he would let all that self doubt trickle through his tone, so you and Bakugo mutually, without mentioning it aloud, have always made sure to reassure him of his strength.

“Yeah.. you’re right!” He smiled at you, shouting with a newfound motivation. You both were sitting on the bench outside the showers, your arms were touching and even though it was such a small touch you could feel your heart flutter.

You could hear footsteps coming out of the showers, Bakugo stood in the doorway, seemingly examining you two before saying, “C’mon, we can head up to my dorms.” Though it was more of a growl than anything. You both had no problem with it and began walking side by side with Bakugo towards his room.

Bakugo walked in first and kirishima ran in and immediately launched himself onto the bed, “What do you think you’re doing, shitty hair? You’re already messing up my bed and you just got here!” He shouted.

“Your bed is so comfy though!” He whined, “roomie come join me!” His cheek was squished against the pillows as he called for you.

You finally walked in and closed the door behind you, once you had gotten close enough you laid on the bed next to him and looked at the ceiling, Kirishima slowly started attaching himself to you, as his usually touch-starved self always does, and slowly relaxed into the sheets.

Bakugo was sitting on the chair right next to his computer but once he both saw you gathered on the bed he marched over, “move over!” He growled before plopping himself between the two of you, “Didn’t know you were into cuddling, Bakugo.” Kirishima said teasingly before turning and squishing himself as close as he could to Bakugo.

You then turned to join in on the light hearted teasing by pressing yourself against him as well, his face was flushed right now but you could tell he didn’t dislike it, you wanted to cup his face in your hands and litter kisses all over his face; You didn’t know what your relationship with these two were though, but all you knew is that you were inseparable.

Of course you were all for platonic cuddling, you’ve done it all the time, but with them? You couldn’t help but feel like you were just in some kind of special closed space that could only ever be shared between you three.

You don’t think this is just some kind of simple love either, it’s closer than that. Like your very own beings, your very own souls were connected, permanently, intertwined with one another. You wished this would never end.

“You guys mean a lot to me you know.” You muttered just loud enough for them to hear.

“Fuckin’ sap.” Bakugo uttered.

“I care about you two as well.. and I’m sure Bakugo feels the same way even though he won’t say it!” Kirishima said with a wide smile etched onto his face. He was almost glowing, there was light shining in through the curtains, it was almost like he was the sun itself, god, you could drown in those eyes.

Would they judge you for wanting them both? Would they leave you? If keeping your feelings a secret, even if it hurt you, would keep them by your side, you’d make sure you wouldn’t even insinuate them, no matter how much you longed for them.

Kirishima pulled the covers over you three and snuggled into Bakugo, he made sure to toss his arm over him to lay a hand over yours, that was resting on Bakugo’s chest.

But there were moments like these that gave you hope, maybe you could be together! Maybe they did like you back! Maybe they could also feel this sort of longing for you that you had felt for them! You couldn’t confess though. Romance was never your thing and never had been, so you were pretty blunt about it, but ever since these feelings sparked you could barely let out a squeak before flushing a deep red and your tongue tangled.

You leaned your cheek against Bakugo’s shoulder before shutting your eyes, you could feel Kirishima squeezing your hand once before you fell asleep.

You could only hope this goes right!

You had gotten out of bed, almost waking Katsuki up before you put those hero skills to use and completely snuck out of bed. You made your way downstairs, the one that all three of you had chipped in with your own money to get, a fresh start for the three of you and your relationship, you had decided in your early twenties.

You had found your way into the kitchen with the dim light of the slowly rising sun peeking through the curtains.

Grabbing a few pans, bowls, and ingredients you set off to make French toast as fast as you could before they woke up, even if they had a tiring mission the day before it would never stop them from getting up early.

The distinct smell of it has definitely already wafted through the entire house, you knew they would wake up soon, you read the clock that hung on the wall, ‘5:34’ it said. What better way to wake them up but with kisses?

You quietly made your way upstairs to the two men in bed, Katsuki was halfway up, just slightly groggy, you know he would’ve checked downstairs earlier to look for you if he could but the sleeping man latched onto him definitely wouldn’t have.

He didn’t notice you though so you slowly walk up to him and plant a kiss on his forehead after brushing his hair back. “Good morning sleeping beauty..” you whispered, “Mm.. g’morning” he grumbled in a rough tone before looking at you, he noticed you were staring, raising his eyebrow he tried to question you, “wh-“ until you started kissing him. Over his cheeks, his nose, his eyes, and then a slow and sweet one on his pretty lips; you made sure not to leave a single spot unkissed.

He growled but returned your kiss, he was so much softer in the mornings you couldn’t even find yourself caring about morning breath.

“You wanna wake up Eiji with me, baby?” You asked in a low voice. He agreed, he looked almost mesmerized by you but still moved to turn over towards the man who has now completely thrown the covers off of himself and laid his limbs every which way. He laid a hand on his chest, “Get up red.” He said while subtly fixing his bed head. You moved all the way around the bed to reach Eijirou’s side, and ran your fingers through his locks.

Through both of your tries you had finally gotten him to open one eye, “you gotta open the other one too babe.” You chuckled, he giggled slightly before opening the other. “Ah, there you are.” You kissed him lightly on his lips, caressing his cheek while you did so, and him happily returning the favor before turning his head to the man behind him to kiss him as well.

They looked at each other and you with admiration.

“I’m going to fix a plate for you two alright? Just wait here, no need to get up.” You purred.

You made your way downstairs and quickly stacked three pieces for Katsuki and five for Eijirou, with a side of bacon on two separate plates, you grabbed the syrup from the pantry and carried the two plates with you and the syrup upstairs.

Eijirou was now lying on Katsuki’s chest and perked up when seeing you peek through the doorway. “Thank you baby!” He shouted before kissing you countless times all over your face once you got close enough and grabbing the plate you handed to him with the syrup.

Katsuki had waited until Eijirou was focused on food until taking his, “Did you make yourself one?” He questioned, he always was the type to worry over the both of you. “Yeah I already ate, don’t worry about me.” He hummed, content with your answer.

The two had finished their meals and you took their dishes downstairs into the sink to wash later. Making your way back upstairs they had convinced you to stay in bed again, just a little longer, though it was mostly Eijirou who did the convincing.

“Just a little longer…” He chirped, he tugged you closer towards him so now you were sandwiched between him and Katsuki. You weren’t uncomfortable though, no, you were happy. You were glad that Eijirou had confessed to you both. You’re glad Katsuki brought up the idea of buying a house to live in together. You were glad you had met them. You laid on your back while they curled around you.

You’re so glad it turned out this way, so glad.

[queenendless]

🔞 Specialz (Adult!SatoSugu x Adult!Fem!Reader)🔞

A/N: Yeah ... I might be writing more Shibuya inspired smut than I thought. KINDA canon divergence cause in this AU Gojo can heal others too so sorry for the confusion, BIG TIME!

LONG ASS FIC, OVER 7K LONG, MY LONGEST ONE YET OH LORD! ALL FOR THESE TWO SO THERE!

⚠️ CW WARNING ⚠️ NSFW CONTENT! Porn with long ass plot, murder/bloodshed, somewhat feral Gojo, sorta exhibitionism/definite vouyerism, choking kink, tentacle action, deepthroat fuck, breeding/claiming kinks, unprotected sex, clit play, creampie, p in a and v, double p in v, nicknames/pet names, some dirty talk, praise talk, GoGe simping, horny SatoSugu x reader in already established polyamorous MMF relationship. This smut piece is gonna be as horny as I can make it. SO MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

* Please DON'T plagarize, translate, or repost my FANFIC content. Reblog, like, and follow instead.

I hope you enjoy.

Credit to anaemicc on Wattpad for the new smut terminology Imma gonna use as reference help when writing 🔞 content from now on.

The setting is Shibuya on Halloween night. Crimson tainting the skies, the cityscape, your thighs ... The AU where Geto is alive, he and Gojo are secret lovers, and are yours, banging you for the entire city to see amiss the chaos that unfolds ...

"Hey you." The sudden warped appearance of you alarmed Jogo, peeved off Choso and stirred up Gojo's sudden carnal longing. "You're wanted elsewhere. So," Your unsure drawl was cut off by Choso's poisonous blood shots narrowly scraping you, swirling through the air, as bodies got caught in the crossfire dropping by the hat. "Eyes on me."

Though that made it hard to divide your attention as you felt so turned on by the gleeful smiling face of one Satoru Gojo that ripped that special grade's veiny arm clean off right between his legs so provocatively.

"Oya oya~" Gojo's eyes widened at the sight of your lithe self; foolishly valiant in the face of death. "I felt you coming a mile away, sweetie~ Sliding in after me, alright~"

"Less innuendo, more exorcizing!" Your cursed energy pushed as many normes outta the way as you could to leave you more room to work to draw that Death Painting in.

Stopping use of his Limitless technique, Gojo gave up on adjusting his technique and focused on compact attacks using curse energy manipulation, operating with only basic cursed energy manipulation and martial arts.

Unable to use Domain Amplification and their Innate Techniques at the same time, Volcano – Jogo – safely uses the former to protect himself unlike Hanami – Weeds.

Foolishly dropping their Domain Amplification just to use their vines to strike at you two compelled you to force push the panicking crowd afar, barely swerving out of range. You're left breathless at a crazed smiling Gojo spinning like a starfish through those vines, eerily giddy as he ripped out those rooted eyes, feeling weak in the knees at imagining Toru asking your greatest weak spot with that look, in that tone…

Your distracted self sensed too late as you were caught in iron, lean arms, eyes glowing dangerously and narrowed possessively.

"Careful, babe~ You want to get hurt that bad, huh~?" The low, dark tone he took with you as his barrier shield you two from the poisoned blood shed coating it, scoffing under his breath. "Where the fuck is he?"

The lights flickered as Volcano and Weeds tried their Amplification fists once more, spurring Gojo to maintain his technique the more they tried neutralizing it.

"Just be careful …" Gojo sounded so far off, trained onto those special grades, reluctantly releasing you. Now was not the time for further discussion. The plan had to keep going, as should you. "Now."

Barely a moment of you warping out of Limitless, did Choso's hands teeming with cursed energy etched straight close to your glowing eyed face. Just where you wanted him.

You sensed another familiar presence down the other end of the tunnel behind him as your cursed energy wave knocked him back enough in the right spot.

"About time." Gojo smacked his tongue under his breath, smirking regardless, relieved at sensing him as well, of course.

"Prison Realm … gate open."

Tentacles slithered out from the shadows beneath Choso's feet, summoned to immobilize him with their tensile grip, just enough time for the gate to unravel in its bleedy X shape. Just as your cursed punch socked him in the face for good measure.

"Nice right hook, honey~" Suguru's rich airy voice was all you could make out to be him since the lights flickered once again.

Choso's lack of combat experience paired with the task of not causing too much carnage did not make things easier. For every limb Choso erodes away from his cursed bloody touch, ten more take their place. The exploding sprays of piercing blood struck down many lingering fools still unable to see the full picture.

"I'm sorry I can't save everyone. So I promise to exorcise them instead!" Both thoughts raced through yours and Gojo's mind.

Your cursed energized back kick whipped Choso's head sideways, earning a low whistle from Geto. For a human spirit hybrid, Choso could take it. You still felt somewhat bad inside for it, though.

Goosebumps immediately raked up your skin at the sight of how easily Gojo crushed the weakened asparagus between his Limitless and the wall.

Volcano's threat to burn them both alive didn't deter Gojo nor Geto in the slightest.

Just as darkness overtook everything one second, light flickered back on in the next.

Hanami's purple blood splattered the crater dented wall; steam and ash wafted off it, leaving Jogo shitting himself.

"Next one."

God, you got wet hard at that moment, blushing something fierce, wanting Satoru looking at you like that.

One minute was up.

The tentacles vanished in place of the cube latching onto Choso, jutting out of him from various points.

"Good night, Choso Kamo. You are spared … this time. Prison Realm, close." With all cursed energy drained, Choso was swallowed right in, the Prison changing from a red fleshy cube with various open eyes to a solid stone closed eyes cube once more, slamming into the floor with sheer force, and Geto looking down at it with disgust. "His desire to avenge his younger brothers' deaths by Itadori-kun's hands means he won't kill himself trapped inside this until he's freed to see his goal through … still though … wasting my efforts on this hybrid monkey. What a joke."

Geto noticing your attention elsewhere, eyes glowing that cursed blue, floating up onto the platform, alarming those frightened monkeys away as you were lost in your future vision. "None of them deserve my cursed gift the way you do."

"Fuck." Gojo's eerily calm voice barely hid his excitement at how breathtaking you look among the carnage littered ground, twistedly smiling at a fleeing Jogo, "The sooner I exorcise you, the sooner I can pound my angel to oblivion."

Magnetically latching his heels on the metal border and levitating himself upright, he used Limitless to halt thrown humans his way by Jogo as cover. If too many lives were lost here, then there'd be no reason for Gojo to hold back anymore. Jogo was itching too close to you to his liking.

Sooner than scheduled —

"An eight-car train is pulling in. Please wait behind the yellow line. Please do not lean on the platform doors or reach your hands or face past them." The announcement came on, followed by the rocking screeching sight of the eight train cars hailing from Meiji Shrine.

Lost in the sea of costumed people running for their believed way out of this mayhem, appalled gasps stirred the crowd bustling around the opening train doors as panic and disgust raced through Jogo at the eight car train filled with gutted, bleeding, dead transfigured humans falling out. And no Patchface in sight.

"Mahito – GRK!" Garbling Jogo got grabbed by the neck in his lapse of focus, slammed into the floor, leaving a crater sized dent in the wake.

"Hands off my woman." Gojo hissed venomously.

"That all went faster than expected." After spraying himself insistently to get rid of the monkey stench, Geto picked up the cube and slipped into the back of the station amidst the chaos.

The root covered exit crumpled apart with Hanami now exorcised, causing dozens upon hundreds of people to fall in. Gojo growled, suspecting more cursed spirits or users are above too.

"I'm on it!" Brazenly catching as many falling normies through the caving ceiling as you could brought faint smiles to both their faces.

Looking back to lock eyes with Satoru once more, Suguru slid the cube to him along the floor, his nihilistic smile being the last thing Gojo saw before warping away himself.

Just as three swift blurs came straight outta the train door, helping you catch every other falling figure, bouncing off the debris chunks like springs alongside you.

Recognizing their cursed energy presences, Gojo cackled with mad glee.

"Game over." Slamming Jogo hard enough into the ground, blue flames licked the air as they enveloped Jogo whole. "I win."

Eroding to ashes, Gojo's form sagged down in relief as the fear felt in the room washed away by confusion and relief. Spotting Yuji and Mei instructing the masses left standing to leave via the stairways as Ui stands proudly by his very much older sister's side, including that the proper authorities would tend to them outside. Scooping up the cube, he floated back up to even level.

"Gojo-sensei!" Yuji's cheeriness lightened the bloody setting, running over.

"The veils have all been lifted. Which made exorcizing the special grade responsible for the transfigured humans attainable. Itadori-kun made sure of that." Mei informed him, making Yuji blush from the praise. "Y/n-chan's seer intel was spot on. Truly a valuable asset~" Mei Mei praised you as well.

"I expect nothing less from her~" Gojo's senses – coming down from his looney high – sensed your presence having teleported farther up. On the highest floor. Oh, sweetie, why?

"Hey! Thank Nee-sama for her compliments, you tall oaf!" Ui bristled up.

"So, Gojo-kun, you owe me for today. Cause I'm guessing … Geto-kun will no longer be helping out around here?" Her coy smile paired with that velvety threat didn't deter Gojo facially. But left Yuji as the dumbfounded cutie at the moment.

"Hmm." Pulling his phone out of his jacket pocket, he meddled with it. "Well, with the veils dropped, I'm finally able to make a hefty deposit in your account." The ping on Mei's own phone plus the wide ass smile on her laughing face spoke volumes. "Yuki and Yuta will be stopping by soon. When they do, hand them this." Airily stating, Gojo tossed the cube for Mei to catch, who recognized it right away. "She has her own plans for that hybrid pup, anyway, so …"

Mei hummed pleased with the conspiratory talk, accepting the curse wrapped cube. "The Prison Realm huh? What are you all up to, I wonder?" He didn't look up for further discussion on the topic. She could keep her lips sealed, for however long she gets paid big at least. "Very well. Thank you for the extra pay, Gojo-kun~"

Seeing his student praying on the sidelines for the human lives lost tonight made melancholy stir within him. "Yuji." Grabbing his attention, ruffling his pink hair affectionately, Gojo's endearing smile had Yuji blushing. "Great work."

"Sensei …" Blinking back tears, brushing them away with his sleeve, Yuji nodded firmly. Mahito was exorcised. The lives lost because of him – Junpei – were at last avenged. "I didn't lose this time."

"Good. I'll leave the rest of the cursed spirit clean up to you all … unless the end of the world comes crashing down on us, that is. If not, I'll see you back at campus tomorrow, my precious pupil~" He chuckled as he ruffled Yuji's hair once more. "Until then, gotta jet~!"

His two finger salute and bright smile was the last sight those three saw before teleporting.

Joining his special two souls awaiting him uptop, sky high.

❤️🔞❤️🔞❤️🔞❤️🔞❤️🔞❤️🔞❤️🔞❤️🔞❤️🔞❤️🔞❤️🔞

Two badasses with God complexes.

Conflicting ideals.

Enemies on paper.

But partners nonetheless.

Quelling this near nationwide disaster by a fragile truce to team up and take down those special grades.

All because of you; your cursed Seer self.

Many lives were still lost.

But better that than tipping the scales into full blown chaos.

A pounding headache, for instance. Which made warping that much harder on your head and neck, to be honest. Wobbly walking, vision blurry, now blinding as the Shibuya night lights sparkled through the glass stained border walls of the observatory deck, draping an arm across your stinging eyes as your other hand leaned on the wall for support.

"Where do you think you're going, sweetheart?" Gojo's slow horror slasher walk upon you was twice as nerve wracking as watching it unfold on Volcano head. That plus sexy. "Nearly getting yourself killed. Butting in when I could handle it all myself. Then trying to slip out?" He sighed heavily, vibrant eyes narrowed like a predator. "What am I gonna do with you?"

"Correction." The nihilistic smiling presence of Geto walking out of the shadows behind one of the few supporting metal pillars had your heart jolting in anxious excitement. "What are we gonna to do to you?"

Your hand slipped as your knees buckled, going limp, as your world view tilted, when Satoru caught you from behind, gently helping you sit down; to both their concern and relief.

"Hey hey, easy." Satoru gently laid your head in his lap as he sat Indian-style against the wall, brushing aside your hair strands tickling your face, his fingers massaging your cranium and scalp. "You pushed yourself hard tonight, sweetie."

"For weeks, actually. Just take slow calm breaths." Pulling your legs gently to straddle his hips as he sat curled up before you two, Suguru massaged your thighs, eyeing you with such prideful devotion. "You did great, honey."

Satoru hummed in agreement. "We're so proud of you~"

"Don't mention it." You went limp in their grasp, desiring to stay this way in your own share of Infinity.

"Still though," Satoru's shaky tone made your breath hitch at that same feral edge from before return; gaping to his sinuous intentions. "After the hell we went through tonight … I just want to take you here and now and make you a mess myself~"

"He's not the only one~" Suguru's own supine gaze had your chest tighten in nervous anticipation. "After all the hassle we were put through tonight, we deserve our own reward. Sparing those monkeys required such restraint on my part, after all. You already understand what we seek the most now."

You squirmed, clasping your hands together in a praying plea. "GoGe foreplay first … please~?"

Suguru snorted, slyly smirking at you, holding your hands in his giant sculpted ones, smooching your knuckles. "Hmm, should we give the lovely lady what she wants, Satoru~?"

Satoru sighed heavily, smiling smugly, dipping down to kiss your forehead. "At this point, why not~? Besides," Roughly grabbing him by the bun, Satoru yanked him forward hard enough to clash sloppy smooches with. "I've missed my Suguru~"

You shifted between their two leaning bodies, eyeballing as Satoru's other hand clutched and squeezed Suguru's neck; veins flexing out on said hand and neck. Drool slipped down the corner of Geto's mouth, raspy grunts leaving his rosy flush face, as their velvet slobbering tongue duel dragged on. It was quite enticing to your GoGe starved eyes. "Hah, I see this still gets you going~ Depraved of my suffocating touch crushing you~" Gojo playfully taunted.

Geto husked out some dry laughs, "You crave it too~ Breaking me in, like the raunchy bastard I can see coming out of you~!"

A welt of anger pulsed the side of Gojo's head, startling you as he shifted his weight against Geto's, quickly slamming him against the glass wall beside you by the neck, "How's this for you then~?"

"Hah~! Perfect~!" Geto's raspy laugh was cut off as Gojo devoured his wet mouth whole, their deep groans of lust slipping out between every parting of their lips, drool connecting their tongues as their heaving mouths were so close to each other. Eyes half lidded with smoldering fixation on each other atop such heightened emotions looked to be borderline dangerous. "Tell me, Satoru~ Do you still miss this~?"

From the inky shadows Geto summoned, the tentacles returned, wrapping around Gojo's wrists to free Geto and let him breathe; red prints left on his thick veiny neck, gleefully smiling as the snowy haired man fell to his knees with his hands restrained behind his back. As more tendrils helped undo his gold colored kasaya garment, his black yukata robes came next as the skin of his broad upper body was revealed; damn muscles. The sash now untied, his length was freed, flapping against Gojo's curling lips.

"Getting impatient, aren't we Suguru~?"

"You are too, smart ass~"

"Mmh, you're not wrong~" Missing that taste he always relishes, Gojo hummed as he took Geto all in one go, slathering that pulsing dick with as much fervor as the starving beast coming out inside him that needed sustenance.

"Aah fuck~! Yes, Satoru~! Just like that~!" Suguru's chants of praise went in sync with his lecherous moans as he raked his hand through those snowy locks to press him closer, his little bun fell loosely unkempt from his insistent thrusting, slamming himself against the wall with each bang echoing off the see through borders. "Take me, Satoru~! Take it all~!"

Satoru's insatiable slurping paired with his thorough tongue lashing and gluttonous sucking accentuated Suguru's echoes; his nose buried deep in those raven colored pubes.

A sneaky appendage slithered beneath Gojo's slim tight pants, then under his boxer shorts. Lurching from the slimy firm hold stroking his own hardened length mercilessly, Gojo's deep groans vibrated through Geto's dong, driving his moans higher and louder than before. Rubbing his head with its wet end, sliding down to brush his balls, it all had Gojo's legs trembling as he instinctively grinded against Geto's beating heat. "Sneaky bastard~!" Satoru's muffled words were overshadowed by the titillated mewls mushing out of his stuffed mouth as well.

"Ah~!"

"Mh~!"

"Ngh~!"

Lathered in the cum slipping down both sides of his mouth and chin, Satoru's deepthroating by Suguru's slamming thrusts paired in tuned with those insistent rough strokes on his girth finally had them coming undone in unison; their verbal and muffled cries of release had your eyes bulging out of their sockets.

Pressing your trembling fist to your lips, you marveled at their flushed expressions and enamored noises, leaving you elated at making you come just from watching their pleasure together. And yet, it wasn't enough. Not until you felt those two interwoven with you. You were long overdue.

Your muffled cry of coming reminded those two you were still here, curled up against yourself, eyes glossed, lost in them coming down from their highs.

"Satoru~ It appears our dear Y/n has been by her lonesome long enough~" Dumping his heavy load for the latter to swallow greedily, Suguru retracted those tentacles out from Satoru's now ruffly tainted pants, freeing his bound arms as well, sending that particular curse back into the shadows, watching you with mischievous glee, knowing you in this state would prefer their touch than an octopuses.

Satoru's breathtaking blue eyes were now in your line of sight, heaving heavily with that rosy tinted face, sending droves of butterflies storming your insides. His feral mindstate was returning, being stoked higher, sharing Suguru's sentiments entirely. "Then, what say I plow that pretty mouth of hers myself?" Satoru's languid tone conflicted with his hungry gaze.

"So long as I can devour that finely plump ass~" Suguru purred, mischievously grinning.

"Deal."

Nothing compared to the white hot scorching of your lovers' tongues as Satoru legit crawled over to you, backpedaling you to be flushed against the opposite wall, openly kissing you to submission, your fingers raking through his white undercut then into his fluffy hair had him sighing in comforting bliss. Your eye peaked open, spotting Suguru kissing you from your neck to your jawline until eventually tempting you to pull away from Satoru's lips just to kiss him instead, despite Satoru's pouting at missing your lips already.

"Are you both good? We are risking getting caught together …" You couldn't help it.

Their hearts throbbed for your worrywart self.

Satoru couldn't help but laugh. "Even now, you're still worried about us?"

Suguru chuckled. "We appreciate your concern for us, Y/n, but we're fine."

"More than ever, in fact. And right now, all I want is to gaze upon you. No covers. No restraints." Satoru, taking your hand in his, pressed kisses to your knuckles. "The way it should be~"

You hummed as Suguru took your other hand in his as he pressed it to his cheek, nuzzling your palm then kissing it. "Just the three of us."

You weaved your hands through their locks at the back of their heads, pressing their foreheads against yours, hugging them around their necks, getting teary eyed from the swell of emotions coming forth. "I need you so much closer … both of you."

Tilting your chin upwards between his forefinger and thumb gave more room for Suguru to clamp his teeth deep into your neck, gnawing long and hard enough in various spots to leave those red marks in his wake. "Goddess incarnate, you truly are~"

Sucking and licking from your ear down to the valley between your bosoms, Satoru smugly grinned up at you. "How did demons like us get gifted with such a naughty little angel~?"

With combined feral impatience, they tore open your dark jujutsu jacket, stripping your gasping self of your undershirt as well, smirking as they ripped your bra clasp apart, before devouring a mound for each to take.

"Toru~! Sugu~!" Your wanton cries made them that much harder, your fingers tugging harshly at their hair, as you surrendered to their mouths.

Suguru flicked your one rosy tipped mound, pinching and twisting it between his lithe long digits to his enjoyment at its jigglingness. "Neh … Satoru? Shall we finally claim this sinfully beautiful lady for ourselves?"

Satoru lashed your other swelling hill with feverish hardness, teething your bud as well as suckling it messily in between, before deeply chuckling. "From the look on her face, I'd say so."

He wasn't wrong.

Grabbing you by your hips, ripping the button off your work pants, sliding your panties down with them as well, they both breathed in your long missed bare beauty and your sought out essence.

Satoru's slim-fit matching black pants were shoved down those long fine legs, along with those soiled briefs, freeing himself at last. Suguru's high waisted poofy pants came down too, more erect and thick than before. In their own mind reading way, they knew what they wanted.

"Hug my neck, Y/n. And hold on tight." Satoru commandingly whispered in your ear. Just as you did as instructed, he lifted you up by your hips just as Suguru grabbed you by your knees, both carrying you with iron clad grips, both standing up with such ease. The strongest duo, people.

Stunned from the swift change in position, your hanging self suddenly rolled your eyes back as your body swayed from the tingling pilfering their already coated dongs evoked as they slid into you with familiarity. The flash of pain from the swift plunge made you shout loudly only to moan even harder as they lit the fire in you.

"Aah~! Hah~! Aghn~! Uhh~!" Your incoherent babbling only got them going, stroking their innuendos.

SQUELCH!

Suguru slamming you so hard from behind, drunk on how exhilarating you felt intertwined. "Mmph! Such a – mgh! – tight squeeze you are~!"

FWOP!

Satoru pounding into you excessively, his feral side coming back with a vengeance, shaking from sparks raking his nerves from your inner dripping heat sucking him up just as greedily. "That's it, Y/n~! Take it all~!"

THRUST!

Cum trickled down from all over, trailing down both men's legs and your flesh, forming puddles on the floor at how much was coming out.

The flaps of skin against skin, the gushing squished, the night lights of Shibuya highlighting all your curves, spasms, shuddering, the sweat lining your forms, your gaping sleek mouths, your muscles contracting and clenching.

You deeply missed this.

Intoxicated by their unadulterated need for your indulgence, your arching back, your bouncy breasts throbbing from each thrust, your lissom face, it was all – !

"Fuck, your cunt is heaven~!" Satoru keened hornfully, crushing his sloppy lips into yours, eating up all your mewls.

"Shit, your ass is bliss~!" Suguru raggedly moaned as you clenched around him, slipping in and out ravenously, bringing his face down to chew on your supple peaches.

The cacophony of your trio's profane shouts of ecstasy reverberated around you, eyeing the nightlife beyond the walls, wondering amiss the chaos in your mind if the others were alright. You could feel the number of cursed spirits dwindling, your allies spirits still intact, and the euphoria drowning away the headache your visions always gave.

Time slowed down as you felt Suguru's sweaty face pressing your lower back and Satoru's own against your own, both stopping as they heatedly caught their breaths, exchanging nervous but curious gazes, before Satoru looked into your eyes with his serious ones. "Y/n … will you let us … start a family with you?"

Your heart squeezed as they slowly lowered you back on the stained ground, humming as Suguru expressed the same intentions, having you straddling his lap from behind, angling your face to see his charming one again resting on your shoulder. "Being apart after all this time has made us consider what we now desire going forward."

"Granted, 10 days is just too much separation, if I'm gonna be honest!" Satoru griped, nuzzling your unoccupied cheek, smiling warmly. "And yeah, raising Megumi and Tsumiki together over the years has been quite the adventure."

"The same goes for Mimiko and Nanako … but they particularly want a baby sibling to dote on and spoil endlessly." Suguru softly laughed.

"Granted, I too would spoil that kid … our kid … to be honest, raising a kid in our kind of world is difficult, especially if they become a sorcerer, inherit our techniques, and be seen as another cursed pawn to use for society's personal gains … unless we destroy the corrupt system first." Satoru's straightforwardness had truth to your current realistic problem.

"This past year has been challenging for all of us. And I believe our secret partnership is not so secret after tonight. But if we do decide to have a kid, then we'll defend them until our last dying breaths." Suguru vowed, squeezing your hand in his giant sculpted one to your smiling delight.

"But only with you. And only if you want to." Satoru sheepishly chuckled. "Even though my dick is literally up your womb now."

"Baka." Suguru scoffed under his breath.

Your hands took each of theirs to cup your now stuffed belly together; Satoru's cock still inside. "I'll only ever bear one … with you two."

You were willing to do it. You yearned for it. Lord, the thought of bearing a child you three created together brought tears to your eyes. "So yeah. Let's do it."

Pulling out of you on both ends to make this work, Satoru stripped off his high collared jacket to ball into a makeshift pillow and Suguru slipped out of his monk robes for you to splay your bare back on, they made sure you were comfy enough to further progress as they gently laid you down on your temporary bedding. "Thanks~" You whispered your gratitude, earning big moist smooches on your honey soft cheeks from them.

Lustful possessive looks now sprouting on their faces, Satoru draping your left leg over his left hip and Suguru doing the same to your right leg over his right hip, each then taking a hand of yours to pin them both above your head; intertwined fingers and all, before guiding their veiny soaking thickness in their spare hands to gently, carefully, simultaneously sliding them into your achingly drenched folds. Your breathless urgent gasps came quickly, them being tolerable enough to give you time to adjust at being double stuffed.

After pulling in a lungful of air, you whispered. "K - Keep going."

Rolling their hips in sync, they completely domineered you in all your good spots, their upper ripped bodies flexing to your inner delight as they heaved in and out, gritting out groans through their teeth with you convulsing around them obsessively.

Blood buzzed in your ears whereas theirs were roaring at how much your moans enlivened them.

Their lean statures bending over just to suckle and smooch your face and neck, leaving red blemishes and bite marks in their wake. Your back curving in order to press your fuzzy nude self to theirs for their comfortable safe warmth.

Your throbbing breasts were brazenly exposed by their groping, thumbing and pinching with those long lithe fingers before their mouths swallowed your swelling melons; one for each to partake on. Their steamy breaths, savage canines, and skillful tongues combined with their jutting taking things up a notch had your toes curling and your legs squeezing their waistlines desperately when you saw it.

Your reflections on the smooth ceiling. Your flamed face, their ruffled heads devouring your boobs, cum slathering your clit as more splattered on your abdomen.

The thrill of seeing you all in your primal states made you howl sharper.

"None are worthy to bask in your raw majesty but us~" Suguru dictated selfishly, drooling popping off your breast, noticing your gaze training upwards before his veiny hand grasped your chin, forcing you to meet his depraved smile. "Devoted to only us~!"

"This cunt, this body, everything that you are!" Satoru's deepened husky voice going with each savage pounding had you gushing out more messily as he looked up from your other abused tit with narrowed eyes, shadowed with the thrill of his feral edge. "Ours."

Shedding hotly shimmering tears from the rippling explosions edging you closer, all you could do was writhe and spasm in delectable anguish as their pelvises tapped you like wrecking balls; delving straight for your womb, with your cunt throbbing at how much you missed this. Them. Smothering you in your own ripple of heaven.

The springs were coiling as you were all etching closer to the edge. Static sparked their fingertips when Suguru began gently squeezing and choking you, earning him your gasping heaving mouth with your tongue sticking out to his wry amusement. "Now then honey~ Come for us long and hard~ Your loving Sugu wants it~!"

Trails of fire forming from Satoru aggressively rubbing your clit had you chortling out such adorably profane mewls. "Your precious little self can't take much more of this, sweetie~ I can feel it~ Just let yourself burst free~!"

Suguru's thumb brushed your quivering bottom lip. "Let us bless you with our essence, our very souls~"

Satoru endearingly kissed your bump for good measure. "Let us put the most precious baby in that perfect little oven of yours~"

"Bear our child, Y/n~"

"Turn this cursed night to the most blessed one yet~"

Their squeezing hands on yours had you clawing at their veiny knuckles.

"No one else but you is worthy enough~"

"You were made for us~ You kept us together for all these years~ It has to be you~"

"Our closest friend, our wife, our ray of heaven~"

Your eyes widened as their free hands left your slightly marked neck and reddened clit to lay their hands atop another's over your accelerated heart, smiling with tears in their eyes at the overwhelming sexual amour, confessing with such emotion as the strongest duo that they are.

"I love you."

Their intimate, amorous words thickened with such raw truth did the trick.

The sensation of total release brought about a dizzying explosion of feeling, leaving you shuddering uncontrollably as you reached your glorious peak.

That broke down their floodgates.

Crying your name out in unison, they once again soared over the edge, but dumping a heavy truck load this time. Curling in on you, they flooded themselves inside you, they poured their dumploads of steaming white hotness in every crevice, fold and bundle you held, sloppily pounding into you for good measure to ride that high.

Their conjoined seeds have finally hit their mark.

All you could do was take it all in, heaving and crying softly at how their friction, their hardness, even their engorged heads felt too good inside you to be real.

But it all was.

This nasty, unhinged, embarrassing – yet provocatively arousing time spent on Halloween night.

With these two powerful, terrifying, sometimes unhinged men that have softer, gentler, tender sides to them.

Endlessly devoted, unconditional and all encompassing.

With each other.

And you, of course.

❤️🔞❤️🔞❤️🔞❤️🔞❤️🔞❤️🔞❤️🔞❤️🔞❤️🔞❤️🔞❤️🔞

Over a decade spent cultivating.

Keeping it hush hush, as those two were on opposing sides, but still kept in touch because of you.

Trying to rebel against the system and make way for the next generation of sorcerers to change this kind of world into a better one takes work. Resources. Allies.

Ergo, you departing Jujutsu High post graduation to aid Yuki Tsukumo in her mission, guided by your visions and your own heart's ambitions to end the cursed energy problem; the root cause of this fractured world.

From your prophetic visions starting in your student days to realizing your two loves parting ways, you divulge your hidden truths to them. Wanting you three to stay united. Acting as double agents in a sense. Better than being forced to take each other out in this long marathon game.

Some convincing and persuading lead to an eventual struck deal. Partners slash secret lovers, regardless of their switched conflicting ideals and surface level allegiances. While neither were thrilled at you collaborating with Yuki; her playing her own part in dividing the fine line between them to their somewhat breakup, they knew you were overall fighting to change things your way just as they were doing the same but the way they individually were best at.

Dropping in on them back and forth, from Suguru's temple of a home to Satoru's private housing to even your own apartment when you were in Tokyo, your desire for you three to maintain your bond stayed strong.

Planned secret meetups, play dates where those two talked in private but watched with affection from afar as you get overwhelmed by those four precious rugrats, late night call sessions that lasted until the sun rose, roundabout impromptu rendezvous in each other's bedrooms …

Eventually, those years became 10.

The kids grew up. As did you three.

But with time came change. Good and bad. For you sensed the divide lingering beneath the surface growing to uncomfortable lengths.

When you had that vision whilst traveling abroad with Yuki doing research.

Of that December night.

The Night Parade of a Hundred Demons.

As Yuuta Okkotsu nearly killed Suguru.

And Satoru was tasked with executing him.

But willingly spared him as you arrived, their stunned faces on par with your eyes glowing and tears trekking down your face, as you tearfully embraced your one armed lover, begging for Satoru to heal him, offering Suguru refuge, for you no longer desired them fighting each other anymore.

Proclaiming that if they ever loved you at all, that you'd all marry each other straight away.

After a stunned faces pause from them both, immediately in came some touch deprived, molten kisses from both your men then watching them exchange some as well, Satoru restored Suguru's arm and promised to rendezvous with you as soon as he could, knowing he had his students to check up on. And Suguru had to pick up his girls as you helped walk him out of the wrecked school grounds as best you could.

While you have been dating for a decade, the idea of marriage popping up various times never came to fruition. Knowing your taboo relationship meant treason for Satoru and execution for them both if found caught.

But that near death experience, the second one, made you all reconsider how short your lives were and how certain precious things shouldn't be taken for granted, especially in this cursed world. You couldn't bear it. And neither could they. The look of heartbreak on your face was one neither desired to be the cause of.

Meeting up in Okinawa, among the snow covered flowers, in loving memory of Riko and Kuroi, internally apologizing for failing them to save them both when your vision came too late and you were too far away and not strong enough to aid them and your loves the most, hoping they and your dear friends back at Jujutsu High were both there in spirit, watching over you all and granting their blessing.

On Christmas Day, arriving well into the afternoon, with an awkward faced, gray suited Megumi and an optimistic Tsumiki in a floral lace bodice ruffle trim wrap hem chiffon formal gown in baby pink. Smack dabbed in between the siblings, Satoru Gojo was well suited up in his tux; hair down and shades on.

As was Suguru Geto, his hair now cut to grace up to his shoulders, right arm intact, in a matching tux, with the twins coordinating with Tsumiki on the plane ride over; Mimiko in a similar dress in navy blue and Nanako in a matching one but in burnt orange.

The impromptu modern-day elopement went underway in the chapel overlooking the snowy garden.

Thankfully, the twins helped score you an Ariel dress; a romantic cloud of matt organza, with a removable balloon skirt and sleeves, and a subtle black chiffon ribbon.

Your chaotic duo were awestruck, jaws slacked and eyes radiating with unbridled love.

Your four kids beaming with supportive glee at how you; their mother practically at that point, walked down that aisle like an angel descending down from the heavens. The girls giggling as you gave a flustered Megumi your bouquet.

Your hands grasping one of each from them as you began the small private ceremony.

Astonished and amazed that Satoru, having memorized both yours and Suguru's ring sizes, had purchased them as soon as they landed.

Improvising your vows on the spot, you three merely spoke from the heart.

The rest of the week was spent touring Okinawa, the guys treating your kids to all the joys this place gave to them and their long passed friends they consider as family too, making sure they were all conked out before your husbands treated you in your shared newlyweds suite and made sure to remind you just how much they both missed, cherished and adored you.

The rest of the year spent looking back on the hectic events leading up to that moment, as fireworks flashed throughout the night sky, the girls and Satoru cheering for the new year, Megumi and Suguru exasperated but smiling nonetheless, and you relishing being snug in between your embracing loves.

The congratulatory calls over Satoru's phone from Shoko and Nanami teemed with suspicion and reluctance whereas Haibara was over the moon for it. Even Yuki called you and gushed over your dramatic lovely momentum. All of them seemingly suspecting Suguru had survived but choosing to keep shut about it along with your kids, to you three's grateful reliefs.

A lot has changed since then.

Satoru letting you, Suguru, and the twins crash at his private home in the countryside where Tsumiki usually stayed with Megumi before he began attending Jujutsu High and staying in the dorms.

Suguru decided to try and start over, becoming the stay at home father of the group while Satoru was working and you were traveling. Still working out and training to still be in the best shape along with his girls, knowing that this new take on life would take time to adjust to as well as work on their hateful outlook on humanity as a whole.

Then a new issue revealed itself.

Particularly… Kenjaku.

Fortunately, your visions have helped you all derail his plans a lot over the past year and several months. But a millennium old cursed user was just part of the problem.

The rise of special grade cursed spirits with self awareness and intelligence was another.

So training Megumi along with Yuji and Nobara made sense to prepare them for what lay ahead. Yuji especially, with the King of Curses taking refuge inside him. But you still cherished them and the second years like your own babies as well.

Your last call with Yuki involved her discovery of the long sought after Prison Realm your vision foretold of as well as its hiding place.

The events of the Shibuya Incident came soon after. The deaths of thousands. As well as who was responsible.

After nearly passing out from the info overload, you made sure to message your husbands on the issue at hand. While apprehending slash rescuing the traitor Kokichi Muta from that Patchface's assault, Satoru saw your visions theories as proven fact with aid from Kokichi's own confessions.

Not willing to take the chance, of course you intervened.

Right before Yuki's sudden visit at your place, dropping the cube in a wary Suguru's grasp, giving him her personal request to capture Choso Kamo alive in the cube, so Satoru's imprisonment in it doesn't come to fruition as your vision unfortunately revealed as well, assuring him she'd stop by to pick it up when the hard work was done, dropping the bomb on him in her own Yuki way.

So Suguru; not fully trusting her, getting involved fell under his own personal agenda to ensure you both would stay alive and unsealed.

Of course Satoru got a text from her to give him a heads up on her and Yuta dropping by soon.

Then came the detailed veils dropping right after you two slipped in behind Satoru.

You know what happened next …

Which all leads to right now.

The walk down memory lane ended with you coming down from your high at last, easing down, relaxing your sore, tingling, fatigued self.

Pulling out their softened dicks in unison, admiring how much of their cum filled your swollen red pussy and stuffed your moistened ass crack; trickling down like tiny streams of thick cream. They released your hands as their heaving selves laid down on either side of you, cushioning you in between. Satoru's snug tee and Suguru's sweaty scarred chest.

"That … was awesome." Satoru breathlessly cheered.

"Our best one yet." Suguru hummed proudly.

"Question. Whose cleaning this mess up?" Your shaky finger pointed at the cum all over the floor.

Both men tiredly cackled, nuzzling your nose and cheeks.

"Eh, let the workers here handle it, sweetheart~ We did help save Halloween, after all!" Satoru mused.

"Besides, we have more important matters to discuss." Suguru pointed out.

"Like?" You panted.

Suguru pushed himself up to gather your discarded clothing. "What shall we name our bundle of joy?"

"Mochi~!"

"No food related names, Satoru." He was deadpan serious.

"I'd rather that than anything outdated or boring! Our kid deserves the best name possible! Unless you want them to be miserably stuck with one for life~?" Satoru prayed that wasn't the case.

"Ahem." Your reaching hand had Satoru pulling you up on your sore bum as Suguru handed back your attire. "I'd rather we put our clothes back on, go home, call it a night, and talk about this in the morning. When I'm not entirely wiped out?"

Satoru started putting back on his jacket, flirting, "Oh our sweet, darling angel, how our world turns to your loveliness~"

Suguru slipped back on his robes and kasaya garment, tying them up tight. "She's right though. We've postponed our departure long enough. The girls are waiting for us back home, after all."

"Work related stuff can be dealt with in the morning." Satoru groaned, stretching his limbs, popping them from stiffness.

"Need help getting up though." You whimpered, fully dressed but too sore to stand up.

"Allow me the honor, our lovely wife~" Suguru swooned, sweeping you up with no struggles.

"Can we squeeze in one spooky film viewing though~?" Satoru pouted, pleading.

"In the living room, with the girls. You handle the snacks, I get the blankets." Suguru suggested.

"Deal." They kissed on it to your giggling relief. "Y/n, you're something special, ya know that~?" Satoru, your husband, pecked your nose.

"Our special wife, soon to be mother of our child." Suguru smooched your forehead.

"Oh, how long will that take, I wonder~? Hehe, our bedroom is gonna get pretty occupied for a while~" Satoru chuckled mischievously.

"Hey." Their eyes looked to yours as you smiled with such smittenness. "I love you both too."

They both kissed either side of your lips, coming together in one drawn out smiling smooch, before Satoru grabbed Suguru's shoulder, allowing you all to teleport on outta there together.

Back home, safe and sound.

For your own special Halloween.

The night is still young, ya know.

[singukieee]

—my all time favourite bts fics (pt. 3) ᯓᡣ𐭩

consists of my personal favourite bts fics that I've read countless of times. including those from other platforms, such as Wattpad, AO3, and Patreon.

For some works that are cross-posted between tumblr and wp/ao3, I'd only link them to the latters bcs I find it easier to read and navigate the stories on those. but I also tagged all the authors I know are here and linked the rest so you can check their blogs out yourself!

I'll also separate this list into several parts simply because there's too many... So it'd be easier for you guys to navigate!

red means unfinished

blue means finished

🗯️ editor's note

(sorted by alphabetical order)

Merilia by saylilirose

"Mermaids are not real!" That's what you and Namjoon hear everywhere you go. It's funny that you're hidden in plain sight, although perhaps popping a tail in front of strangers wouldn't end well for you. That's what you've come to learn. You've also learned, to hide yourself very, very well. Until- "NO-DON'T JUMP-SHIT!" You and Namjoon are joined by others, not by choice.

🗯️ mermaids and insane drama oooh yes

Moonchild by @yoongiofmine (paid on patreon but so worth it)

Working at a coffee shop that only opened in the late hours of the night was the most exciting thing about your life, really. You never had that many friends, your love life was nonexistent, and you just couldn’t explain the feeling of not belonging that chased you no matter where you tried to find your place. It was when seven very handsome strangers came into your life that weird things started happening around you and within you. Could they be the ones to fill in what’s been missing? Or would getting involved with them and their world put you in danger?

🗯️ aaaah so good!!! so well-written, gahh plott so great, identity crisis (human or...?), werewolf drama.

My Muse by Zennnoe

I felt my lungs suddenly stop and a coldness brush onto my face, I gasped loudly clutching onto my chest. Dropping down onto my knees trying to grasp whatever air in-front of me. But I was at dance practice. So why did it feel like I was breathing underwater? I soon felt the hands of my close friends lift me up and lay me down as I try to takin in as much air as possible, for her. Soon the staff swamp me and I hear them talking about her, my other half. I soon clutched onto my stomach and I shouted loudly in so much pain, pink fluorescent patches bloom onto my skin. Yes they looked pretty. But the reason why they were there was not. As I try to reach out I grab one of my friends hands tightly and request for one thing. "My music. Pass me my music." I beg. This is the only way for me to reach her…to help her. My beloved soulmate.

My Soulmate are IDOLS by tinyeyecat

In a world where soulmates exist and people receive their soul bonds (a red string of fate, body exchange, timer tattoos…etc) when they turn 20… Wet dreams are not the norm for Amber. She should not be haunted by men she doesn't know, let alone by the world-famous boyband, Bangtan. But on the day of her birthday, Amber switches bodies with the idol on stage and finds out that the members of the boyband are her soulmates. All seven of them.

🗯️ this is one wild story... aren't all emi ree's stories so wild tho? but also well-written. (epilogue is on Patreon).

Not My Hybrids by Ghosstwriterss

When Y/n is pressured to volunteer at a hybrid rehabilitation/adoption Center, and asked to house 7 hybrids to help them become comfortable with humans and the idea of adoption, who is she to say no?

🗯️ the kind of story where mc's so freakin nice I don't think she's human. but yea it's all worth it.

One Kiss by DuraWrites

In a world where soulmate exist, where you can only know your soulmate through a dream. Confirm through a kiss and complete the bond through love-making. Han Bora just celebrated her 22nd birthday and not long she started having dreams of her soulmate. Correction. Soulmates. Already being a fan of this popular K-pop group, she immediately knew that her soul is tied to all seven of them. It was a dreadful yet thrilling thought as the realization of being the soulmate to her favourite artists hit her. But it isn't just as easy as it seems. Because she was the only one who had the dreams. So She has to prove to them she's their soulmate. And the only way to confirm that is through ONE KISS. How will an average girl find her way to that untouchable top to prove to the biggest boyband that she's their soulmate? Come along and let's dive into this crazy mess of a journey together.

🗯️ one kiss is all it takes... literally

Out of Time series by Alphathyx

🗯️ so freakin sad wtf but that is why there's an alternate ending. soo good and heart wrenching.

❶ Out of Time

A story about a girl named, Hana who has suffered a chronic condition all her life that would soon take her life one day. But with her final wish, she uses it to see BTS, but the boys decided to have more in store for her. Join Hana, and the members in a fluff filled adventure before time runs out.

❷ Out of Time: Young Forever

The alternate ending for 'Out of Time' and bonus chapters

Parfait by fullspectrumfangirl

Alpha bands are a popular entertainment schtick. Handsome, powerful, talented, they sell the fantasy of availability as much as they sell their music. After all, everyone knows a pack is incomplete if it only contains alphas. Omegas and betas dream of being a part of the balance. Unfortunately, this is more than just marketing. A band needs to function as a pack, but with only alpha members, bickering and infighting are almost unavoidable. Beta managers help, but there is another common tactic that helps the talent maintain equilibrium: house omegas, hired companions who stand in for the missing pieces. BTS is a wildly popular seven-member alpha band. They are known to be particularly kind and humble, but they are still struggling to keep house omegas for their pack. None of the prior candidates have wanted to leave, but one member has protested them all. What is the missing ingredient in their otherwise winning recipe?

🗯️ again, idk what to say but it's good! a really well-written story with great plot.

Peculiar Pack by @daydreamindollie

You’re a successful hybrid writer and psychologist, who takes in seven hybrids one stormy night after finding one of their pack stealing from your garden.

🗯️ cute T.T

Petrichor by @purpleyoonn

You had been working at Bangtan Corporation for almost two years now, and not once have you ever laid eyes on your bosses. That was, until you met them when out with some of your coworkers. Now, you almost wish you hadn’t. Almost.

🗯️ courting... yes please! and again, I love possessive mates.

Plump by koozip

Meeting Namjoon's close friends was something you've been anxious about since meeting him. You wanted them to like you. Starting off with a group chat seemed like the perfect way around your fears. You weren't sure how they'd feel about you in person. So when they fell in love with you and your lovely curves, you were taken by surprise. You soon realize that you're stuck with the seven handsome men for the long run. The chronicles of chubby y/n and her new smitten friends. Based around the group chat named 'chubbybear' that started it all.

🗯️ gosh this one's just warm and sweet, especially for fellow chubby girlies out there!

Rainy Days by Peanut_The_Sugar_Glider

Life had dealt you a rather crappy hand, but you kept on fighting, you kept on existing day by day. On a gloomy day however, you feel as if it all means nothing, as your beloved pet had past away and she always was there to cheer you up and enjoy the gloomy weather, making it less sad and depressing. Be it fate or otherwise, movement catches your attention outside. And your life is never the same after. You never will have to worry about being alone, and you find yourself enjoying the rainy weather.

🗯️ despite the title, this story feels like a warm hug.

Redamancy by strawberheecake

In which Yn met an unknown pack of hybrids living on a land she inherited. Feelings bloomed as the pack helped her weather the storm that is her greedy family.

🗯️ another neat and well-written story <3

Retribution by Babydoll_Blue

The Bangtan Boys were known around campus for being heart breakers, but when they made poor Seul-ki cry, Y/N and Mina decided it was time for retribution. Forming a plan to ruin their images, Y/N sets out to seduce them all.

🗯️ revenge gone wrong... or right? wtf am I typing, just read it guys.

Rose & Thorns by @minniepetals

A lone rose, a little broken, until Jungkook came along and the two of you saved each other, and in doing so, Jungkook showed you a world where he shared with his six other mates.

🗯️ a dramatic and warm story. I'm such a simp for soft but strong MCs like this one.

Safe House by SweetBreadFictions

In a dystopian universe where hybrids exist, the government had turned a blind eye to the mistreatment of hybrids. These persons were used, abused and treated in the most unfair ways. To escape the evil owners, hybrids make their way to the rumored district of freedom called Area 613. To help these refugee hybrids, an underground railroad had been developed by kind people. Being sympathetic to these persons, you run a safe house stop for the hybrids during their journey. As you help these hybrids, seven of them decide that your safe house might be better that any rumored district of freedom.

🗯️ I love when the relationships develop one by one so you got attached to allll of them.

Sanctuary by @softykooky

Some people are lucky enough to be born into a family that loves them. others meet their family in a coffee shop while on the run from the korean ambassador, while they’re holding a man at gunpoint and beating him to a pulp for treason against their syndicate.

🗯️ :")👍

Seven by Worldwidehandsomeyouknow

Life is boring. Same thing, day in and day out. Nothing new or exciting ever happens. I just want something, anything to happen! Well something happens alright. Seven somethings in fact

Sheltered by Gracie30102

What Namjoon thought was trouble turned out to be a blessing as he rescued a wounded kitten who would capture his packmates hearts little by little.

🗯️ s o f t.

Soulmate to You by OT7oramI

When a vaccine leads to unexplained symptoms, the world erupts into panic. What happens when one girl finds out she is soulmates to all seven members of the largest group in the world?

🗯️ another well-written soulmate story! this synopsis doesn't give justice to this freaking good story so just read it please.

Spring Day by @nunchiimagines

Becoming a part time english teacher wasn’t exactly the ideal startup you had hoped for yourself when you first moved to Seoul, South Korea. Luckily, you loved working with children and you were grateful to have found a well paying job with housing included so soon after university. Amongst your class, however, are 5 boys who seem to be constantly ostracized not only by the rest of the students but also by the other teachers and staff members. Becoming attached to you fairly quickly, you’re unintentionally tasked to be their permanent caretaker during their stay at school, even staying past the hours you were needed until they were picked up safely. However, what you didn’t expect was to catch the hearts of their seven older brothers, the leaders of a notorious and well known mafia family in Korea.

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 4 | NAVI