#releasing au ideas into the wild

[radioactivepeasant]

Fic Prompts: Free Day Friday

It's Black Friday and I refuse to leave the house. Here, take my incredibly and unrepentantly self-indulgent Eldritch Damas au.

Premise: Damas death scene but close to a light eco vent and Jak tries to heal him.

Well Tumblr won't let me fix the formatting it donked up, guys, so there's a copy of this post that's actually readable on dark theme up now.

Damas has never been exposed to that much at once, unfiltered. Jak can't control how much he's channeling from the vent, he's too distraught. And he ends up changing Damas in the way the Dark Warrior Program changed him.

Damas can't control the light eco transformation. He looks like some kind of ascended being, trapped in a more powerful form and unable to utilize his new powers in a way that would deplete the eco and let him de-transform. 

Do people consider him dead? A changeling? A Precursor-king? Jak would feel so guilty, having put this on Damas's shoulders without him having a say in it.

_____________________________________________________

He's guilt stricken, he's horrified, he's so sorry, Damas please- 

He doesn't know he's Damas's son, Damas doesn't know he was always Jak's father and not just recently his father. 

Jak thinks of the Arena, thinks he knows what Damas's wrath looks like (he doesn't, he's seen only the strongest commingling of worry and frustration) 

His war amulet feels meaningless. He has betrayed his leader, after all. The one ruler he chose to serve willingly. The only adult in his life to see his darkness and embrace it as simply part of him. And look what Jak's done to him. He thinks he deserves what is surely coming, but he's still just a boy and he can't help pleading for forgiveness. 

And Damas sees a child, stripped of his tough protective shell, terrified beyond words -- is he so horrible to look upon? -- pleading incoherently for either forgiveness or mercy, he can't tell which. Tears stream down his face, making him look disturbingly young.

"I didn't mean to- I didn't mean to, Damas, please-! Please forgive me! I-I-I lost control of it, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!" 

Jak doesn't beg. Jak never pleads. 

This is profoundly wrong and he knows this in his heart although he cannot quite fathom the depths of the wrongness he feels. He only recognizes that he does not want this boy to kneel before him. He has never been so formal before, it feels unnatural for him to be so now. 

(Veger arrives late, does not recognize the cosmic horror as the king he willingly betrayed. He sees the dark eco freak humbled, on his knees before what he believes is a Precursor. He thinks that at last the thorn in his side will be struck down) 

This is it! At last! Veger thinks 

And then this thing that was their king bends 

Jak grieves, believing Damas no longer knows him; he wonders if this is worse than Damas being angry. Everything they've been through, every memory, just gone? As beyond reach as Jak’s own childhood? And he did this to him.

- this is it. I won't fight him, Jak thinks -

And the great tendrils of its -- his -- wings wrap around Jak. On that too calm face, artificially peaceful, something quizzical appears in the tilt of a mouth swirling with stars. Wings draw close around them, dragging Jak up to collide with a broad chest thrumming with energy both alien and familiar. Light eco begins to seep into Jak, whispering beneath his thoughts "ours, ours, ours"

He traces a glowing hand along Jak's cheek, cocks his head and twists Jak's face back and forth with an innocently curious expression as though he's never seen him before. 

Something sparks in Damas's eyes, some thought or impulse, and he seizes Jak by the upper arms. The words that pour from his mouth are ancient, a dialect lost long ago to all but the monks and those who once called Sandover their home.

"Mine…? You are! You are mine.” 

It is a declaration, a discovery. A revelation. A promise. 

With a flick of his wrists, he sends Jak tumbling into the light eco vent. Light flares and Jak transforms with a choked cry. Daxter panics, but he can't get past Damas's wings to get to his best friend. He watches Jak stand on shaky legs, wings curled tightly around himself as though he is trying to hide. Hide from his shame, hide from his friend, hide from his king. Light eco usually calms him, soothes his nerves, but not this time. It is frenzied, yet it is rejoicing, singing through his veins like a homecoming and Jak is left disoriented. Dazed. 

Ours, ours, ours-! 

Unnaturally strong hands lift him up under the arms, leave his feet dangling like a child's. Jak doesn't remember ever being held like this, outside of the secondhand memories of holding his own childhood self. When he finally works up his courage and looks into the Precursor King's eyes, looking through the filter of light eco himself, there is no anger. Neither is there a lack of recognition. Damas still knows him, that's becoming obvious. Jak looks into his eyes and sees pain and acceptance and a naked, boundless joy. 

And Jak is so stunned that he forgets in that moment that he was trying to hide. He almost forgets why he feels squirming guilt -- albeit muted -- under his skin. He knew that Damas liked him. That Damas was comfortable expressing pride in him, even in front of the whole Arena. This is something else. Something Jak has never been bold enough to hope for outside of his own lonely imaginings: that Damas might see him with a kind of fatherly affection. That the closest thing he had to a real father figure might see him as a son as well. 

"Child,"

Damas echoes, proud and warm and earthshaking,

"My child." 

And what Veger sees, what he thinks he sees, is the child he ripped away from Damas, the tainted heir, receiving the blessing that should have been his: to ascend to Precursorhood. Welcomed into this evolved form as though the dark eco meant nothing. 

He can't fathom it. 

His worldview is cracking at the edges. 

Oblivious to his crisis, Damas -- now closer in nature to his ancestors than he knows -- is content. This is his child. His. The eco in their blood harmonizes, dark with light, in one melody. He knows this weary warrior. He knows the blood that flows in his veins. His subject, his best warrior, his impudent rascal, his Jak: his son. 

Vaguely he knows there's something they were supposed to do, something quite important. But it doesn't seem as important as stopping time just so that he can hold his child in his arms again. 

Jak would like to get down, he really would. His wings flail in an ultimately futile bid for freedom. He has a world to save. But Damas won't let him go. He's smiling -- it's a relief, but the guilt still eats at him and he doesn't understand, what is the eco doin? Why is it harmonizing? Does the light eco in Damas recognize his own eco? Is that why he's calling him "My own. My little one."? 

Jak has had enough experience with the Light Form that the Precurian instincts don't overwhelm him, and he still thinks on a very human level. But Damas doesn't know how to separate human instincts from Precurian instincts. They're all one to him. 

His memories run against the swell of light and life and love and absolute otherworldliness coursing through him, too strong to control.

"Why aren't you angry?" Jak whispers as he tries to find somewhere for all that light eco to go. 

Tendrils of living eco brush across his cheek in a loving caress and lift his chin. Jak finds himself leaning into the touch without thinking as he watches the stars shift and swirl across Damas's face. This Light Form of Damas croons comfortingly, a subsonic rumble that is both calming and Alarming to Daxter and even Veger as they watch.

"Angry?" The word lilts oddly in the old language. "Why, little one?"

"I...I did this to you! You didn't choose this!"

"But now I am neither dead nor dying. And I know who you are." 

Jak twists up his face in confusion, refracting light across his cheeks. 

He's not afraid, but he's hesitant to ask. "Who...who am I?" 

"My son." 

[midmorningsong]

Thinking about all the trigun (primarily vashwood) aus I've gotten to read and see art of and if there are any I have -not- seen yet and you know what hit me? Figure-skating au. (remembering when YOI was at it's peak and every fandom under the sun got an iceskating au).

And you know as far as parallel themes to cannon go it practically writes itself?? Vash and Knives as a paired skating team, Knives suddenly can't compete for their upcoming season (injury from them doing a move together? Vash wanting to split because of personal conflict? could spin it a few ways depending on what story elements you wanted to focus on), enter Wolfwood, a lesser-known solo skater doing exceptionally well in his smaller events, who is offered some insane sum of money to go be Vash's partner (taking it to support the orphanage ofc).

Usual vashwood conflict and cooperation in spades as they circle each other like anxious sharks while reading each other for filth; being a super intuitive and great skating pair while emotionally growing way way past both their lines of 'person I am working with because of circumstances' to 'genuine friend but we don't talk about that' to 'most important person in my life who has seen every bare crater of the landscape of my soul and did not look away from any of it oh god when did this development happen'

If you want to make WW's position even spicier and tie in his betrayal guilt you could have Knives be paying him to appeal as Vash's partner out of all the other picks, so that he can maintain control of Vash and inform WW of how he wants Vash's intense training regime to be upheld (again lots of ways you could spin this depending on what the focus of their relationships are; if you're going for something a lot more mentally fucked up and close to cannon or playing with the kinder world of a modern au)

[westleywithatea]

you know how q!cellbit would do anything for q!roier ? q!Cellbit told him he would k!ll for him. and it did happened. when q!roier asked q!cellbit to k!ll q!forever. yeah?

AU idea. Mafia. have fun. Is q!Cellbit the mafia boss who does all the dirty work and is q!Roier the mafia boss's husband who does all the manipulation (toward the targets) and paperwork and "I'm a killer with words" ?? are they both mafia bosses? Are they just a couple within a mafia group, but not bosses? something else??

idk. have fun.

[sleeps-au-bag]

FMA AND PJSK MENTIONED IN THE SAME POST!!?!?? I AM EXPLODING INTO GORE /pos

yup!! i actually plan on doing both fma 03 and fmab. i'm kinda excited for the fma 03 variant since it's gonna leave me with a lot of opportunities once i get to conqueror of shamballa. it's gonna go quite differently compared to the og version but that's all gonna happen when i finally get around to watching 03 and cos.

i will say that i don't plan on changing tsukasa's state alchemist name since i don't really feel like thinking up of one right now. we'll also see more undercover missions in the pre-canon years (love capitalizing off of those three years) and possibly different dynamics with the tenmas and team mustang.

[errorwarblesrr]

I want to design my own links, but I don't know a single thing about character design lol

[plushee-cant-draw]

um. Au idea ig that pains me bc I like it but don't want it to be the main cannon of my au so I am throwing it into the wild for a little bit

Charlie/the shadows offer deals to the survivors, usually what Maxwell offered but more sorta. But in exchange they have to give Charlie their loyalty, their ability to be revived upon death, or something else that is of value to the shadows, Charlie, or the person accepting the deal

And (as a treat) they get a thorny vine or a rose somewhere on their body or clothes for each offer they accept

so there can be angst when other survivors notice

[zeldamphibiedalls]

Stay Safe pt.4

sorry. Short chapter this time

---

Wilds eyes squinted at the light, he tried looking around but only found a blurry screen wherever he skimmed.

He tried to lift himself up to get a better idea of where he was before getting pounced on by something large and… fluffy?

He opened his eyes and saw what seemed to be a large, gray figure. He reached out his hand and felt the familiar touch of fur. This probably meant it was all just a bad dream.

He was about to sit up before a sharp pain cut through his body like a knife and his head hit the pillow.

He turned to his side, the large, wolf-like figure that laid next to him sniffing his hair. He reached up and scratched wolfies ears.

Wild also started to observe the room around him. He heard the heart monitor and he felt the wire stuck in his arm.

He was breathing, with the help of the tube that was hooked up to something else he couldn't see.

"Hey Wolfie, you doing alright?" Wild said, burying his face in the soft fur.

The moment of peace was interrupted by the dog wriggling down and licking his face. Wild let out a soft giggle before slowly being overcome by sleep.

[buckyalpine]

I've always had this acting AU idea where you and Bucky are co-stars in a movie/tv show and your characters are enemies. It makes people feral because you're both so crazy attractive but you just hate each other so much on screen and your story lines have you at each others throats.

Now the part I love with this idea is the press actually thinking you don't get along with him whatsoever and thinking there's drama between the cast because you're never around with them. Whenever they hang out together, literally everyone by you is there. There are so many rumors about how Bucky can't stand working with you and how the cast leaves you out. Natasha even had a thanksgiving dinner recently and the Instagram photo she posted has literally everyone present but you.

Things heat up even more when you barely update your own socials after filming wrapped up. You basically disappeared and it confirms everyone's suspicions. The only time you post here and there is when you're at home alone, doing your own thing. You're never present in any of the interviews. No one ever comments even when they're directly asked about you. There has to be drama.

It's been over a year of near radio silence and people anticipating for the release of this movie.

I love the idea of the movie premier day being full of anticipation and people buzzing over if Bucky would bring a date, if you'd even show up, wondering how you'd interact with everyone else. No one's even seen you but you're one of the main characters so you have to show-

A large black SUV rolls up.

Then Bucky steps out.

Everyone screams. He looks stunning in his all black suit, with his scruffy beard and chestnut locks. Instead of making his way down the red carpet, he stays in place waiting for someone to join him.

Confused murmurs start among the screaming.

And then.

He holds his hand out to help you out.

And everyone goes absolutely wild as you step out, seeing your very round baby bump and that ring on your finger. He makes a show of kissing you deeply before walking you down and of course the cast showers you in love and hugs as if you're all in your own little bubble.

They already knew all long. The secret, low key relationship with you and Bucky. You didn't want people to know because it would bring on so much speculation and scrutiny. When everyone bombards you both with what's going on, Bucky only answers one reporters question with a simple "I'm here with my wife"

Seriously, people can't handle it.

A few days after the reveal, Bucky, you and the rest of the cast including Sam, Steve, Nat and so many others post all the outings they had where you were actually present. The "thanks giving dinner" was actually your baby shower. So many pictures where they're holding your bump with "aunt" and "uncle" sashes tied around them. Pictures from the secret wedding. The honeymoon. The cutest pictures of Bucky cuddled up with you; wholesome intimate moments with you and him. Moments with getting mani pedis with Nat and Wanda.

No on can understand how this was all hidden so well. No one would have guessed.

Weeks later you have your babies and this time everyone posts pictures, all of them surrounding you in the hospital.

Seriously, this reveal breaks the internet in a way you'd never imagine.

[ikeucity]

𝗕𝗥𝗢𝗨𝗚𝗛𝗧 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗔𝗧 𝗕𝗔𝗖𝗞. - 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗧𝗪𝗢

pairing. omegaverse!au ot7 x reader wordcount. 16k

warning. plot-heavy, abo dynamics, possessive and jealous behavior, fluff, angst, dub-con, non-traditional relationship structures such as poly/alpha-omega bonds, internal conflict, emotional manipulation, explicit sexual content. mdni. 18+

with your heat right around the corner, exhaustion settles in as you struggle against the magnetic pull they have on you. thoughts start to creep in, making you question just how deep this connection goes, what it might mean to give in. but as tension builds, one question lingers… who loses control first when the plan doesn’t go as expected?

co-author: @jaeyunsmochi 👹

you woke up to the clattering and soft voices drifting from the living room. blinking groggily, you checked your phone— 10:34 p.m. the boys should have been back by now, wrapping up their schedules, but for them to still be awake and causing noise at this hour? you sighed, rustling around in your sheets before stretching lazily. your muscles protested, still tired, but you swung your legs over the side of the bed anyway. with a groan, you dragged yourself into the bathroom, washing your face and brushing your teeth, already bracing yourself for the mess they’d probably left behind. you knew the drill by now—after all, they had a tendency to turn the place upside down whenever they got together, and it was always you left to clean it up.

sighing again as you finished up, still clad in your tank top and shorts, you figured they were turning in for the night soon, but you might as well make sure there wasn’t anything too wild waiting for you in the morning. best to get it over with now, you thought, padding quietly down the hall, lost in your own thoughts. you sighed as you walked into the living room, feeling the weight of everything that had been happening lately. your pre-heat had been hitting you hard, despite all the distractions the boys had been trying to throw your way. two days until you’d leave. just two more days to hold it together. they had been giving you more and more chores, hoping to keep your mind busy, but it wasn’t working. every night, you found yourself alone, seeking release to take the edge off, but your omega instincts were getting harder to ignore with every passing hour. alpha... mate... the words echoed in your head relentlessly, a chant that wouldn’t stop, a need that kept clawing at you. even the slightest brush of their skin sent you reeling, head spinning from the unintentional touches.

you’d called yuki earlier, your last hope for some kind of relief, but all he could offer was, "there’s a slight delay, but it should arrive soon." your replacement suppressor necklace wasn’t coming in time, and that left you even more vulnerable. great. now when would "soon" be? you were screwed, and you knew it. two days suddenly felt like an eternity. as you stepped into the living room, the boys were scattered about, each of them in their usual relaxed state, though the atmosphere was light in contrast to the tension coiling tight in your chest. jake was lounging on the couch in his pajamas, looking completely at ease, his carefree grin lighting up the space. jay was in the kitchen, the warm scent of freshly made popcorn drifting through the air. sunghoon and niki were huddled together, rummaging through a pile of board games, snickering at some inside joke. jungwon and heeseung were busy laying out blankets and pillows across the floor, turning the living room into a cozy den, a makeshift campout clearly in the works. “y/n,” jake’s voice perked up when he saw you, his grin widening as he bounded toward you, his energy infectious. he grabbed your hand gently, pulling you closer as if he couldn’t wait to share his next idea. “since you’re leaving soon,” he began, his voice softening slightly as he looked at you, a touch of guilt lacing his words. “let’s make a pillow fort.” "a pillow fort?" you blinked, caught off guard but unable to suppress a small smile at how serious he looked. it was random, completely out of the blue, but jake’s enthusiasm was so genuine, and the idea—childish as it was—seemed oddly comforting. you let out a soft chuckle as he tugged your arm gently, pulling you toward the half-finished mess of blankets and mattresses they’d clearly spent time setting up. jake flopped down onto the nearest mattress, sitting cross-legged, and patted the space beside him eagerly. “yeah, come on! you’ve been working too hard lately. you deserve to have some fun before... you know...” his voice trailed off, his playful expression softening as he looked at you with concern. “we’ll all help out, no chores tonight—just us hanging out.” you hesitated, glancing around the room. jay shot you a grin from where he was, balancing bowls of popcorn. sunghoon was standing there with a fistful of blankets, clearly on board with the idea, though he had no clue how to hang them properly. jungwon and heeseung exchanged glances, amused, but not opposing it either, while niki was still preoccupied with rummaging through the games, his back turned to you. “yeah, y/n,” sunoo chimed in brightly, looking up from where he was folding a blanket. “you’re already in your pajamas, and maybe we can convince niki to let you win a round of uno.” niki scoffed without looking up, rolling his eyes as if the mere suggestion was offensive. “yeah, right. i’m not going easy on anyone.” despite his dramatic eye roll, there was a hint of excitement in his voice, and you could tell he was warming up to the idea. your chest tightened at the sight of all of them, their eagerness making the tension inside you soften just a little. they were trying so hard to distract you, to make things easier, and you couldn’t help but feel a wave of affection for them. you exhaled slowly, forcing a smile. “alright,” you said, giving in, “i guess i could use a break... but, you guys are cleaning this up, right?”

“obviously,” heeseung grinned, patting down the last pillow as if fluffing it just for you. “you don’t have to do a single thing, we got it covered.” you glanced at the chaos that was their pillow fort construction. mattresses were haphazardly arranged against the couches, practically covering the entire floor. sunghoon was still fumbling with blankets, clearly trying to make a roof but struggling miserably, and you had to bite back a laugh. it was way too cramped for a proper fort. “i think we can skip the blankets,” you suggested, raising an eyebrow at sunghoon’s determined but failing attempt to hang them. he glanced back at you, clearly not wanting to give up. “but it’s supposed to be a fort, not just a sleepover.” the others looked around at the blanket chaos and seemed to agree with you. “i think it’s already plenty cozy,” jungwon said, stretching out on one of the mattresses, his shirt lifting just slightly, revealing a sliver of skin that had you looking away quickly before anyone could notice your reaction. internally, you scolded yourself. was this really a good idea? but backing out now would be worse. you glanced over at jay, who was now plating the snacks, his expression focused, almost too focused, like he was doing everything he could to make tonight as comfortable as possible for you. they’d all put in so much effort, and even though you were fighting the internal war that was your pre-heat, you couldn’t help but feel touched by it all. “you’re gonna love it,” jake said, practically bouncing on his heels as he gathered more cushions and pillows, his excitement contagious. “trust me.” you sat down on the mattress next to jake, sinking into the plush cushions, and the others began to gather around you. sunghoon finally abandoned the idea of the blanket roof, sitting down with a resigned sigh. heeseung leaned back against the couch, completely relaxed as he watched everyone get settled in, while niki dropped down with a stack of uno cards, clearly ready to start the night off with a bang. "okay, we’re all set." jay announced, placing bowls of popcorn and snacks on the makeshift table they’d set up. “everyone comfortable?” “as comfortable as i’ll ever be,” you joked, but your smile was genuine this time. for a moment, you let yourself relax, the warmth of the room and the boys’ presence wrapping around you like a blanket. "let’s start with uno," niki declared, shuffling the cards with a devilish grin. "and no, i’m not going easy on anyone. especially you, y/n." "bring it on," you challenged back, laughing despite the pressure building inside you.

"i swear to god, niki," jake growled, his voice low and dangerous as he glared across the circle, dragging yet another card from the pile. niki sat there, smug as ever, grinning like the little shit he was, his stack of draw twos and wilds sitting proudly in front of him. he had already ruined jake's game, and now it was the rest of their turns to suffer. "what?" niki threw his hands up, feigning innocence like he hadn't just unleashed chaos. "i’m just playing the game, hyung..." his voice dripped with mock sincerity, the kind that made you want to punch him and laugh at the same time. you snorted, trying to hold back the laughter bubbling up as jake’s frustration boiled over with each card he pulled. you leaned in and elbowed him, teasing, "easy, boy." jake shot you a look, his eyes narrowing dangerously. "you better watch it, you’re next," he said, half serious, half playfully competitive. "i swear, as soon as it's my turn again, you’re toast." jungwon, lounging like he had all the time in the world, smirked from his nest of pillows. "you might wanna focus on the mountain of cards you’ve got there before making threats." "looks like you’re up again, hyung." sunoo piped up, barely looking up from his hand as he slapped down a reverse card. jungwon's eyes widened, darting to the stack of cards. "hey—" he cut himself off, glaring at the pile as he begrudgingly drew more cards. "i was this close!" he held up his thumb and index finger. "close doesn’t count in uno, man," sunghoon chimed in, lazily tossing down a skip card. he gave a slow, smug grin. "i could play all night." "oh, i bet you could," niki fired back, sharp eyes glinting as he slammed down another wild card, changing the color to red. he pointed at you with an exaggerated flourish. "your move, y/n." you groaned dramatically, eyeing the pathetic six cards in your hand. "of course, of course, target me. why not?" heeseung chuckled from across the circle, lounging back against a pile of blankets, a satisfied smirk on his face. "he's competitive, y/n. don’t take it personally." "oh, but i will," you shot back, grinning despite yourself. jay, sitting beside you, leaned in eye-ing your cards, deciding to sit this game out. "don’t let niki win. he’s been insufferable all night." "i swear," you said, your voice deadpan, "if anyone lays down another draw two, i’m walking out." jake scoffs, eyes gleaming with mischief as he slapped down a wild draw four card. his grin stretched wide. "oh really? how about this, then?" your jaw dropped, eyes wide in disbelief. "jake! what the hell?" your voice rose, filled with mock outrage as you stared at the stack of cards now in your hand. "hey, you said you were coming for me next," jake shrugged, not even trying to hide his amusement. "this is self-defense." "oh, it's personal now," you muttered, pulling the four cards from the pile with exaggerated slowness, glaring at him the entire time. jake just grinned wider, leaning back like he had all the time in the world. sunoo, deeply entertained by the vibe in the room, giggled under his breath. "oooh, things are getting real serious now."

jungwon, still nursing his grudge from earlier, tossed down a reverse card. "let’s see what you got, y/n. make it count." you didn’t need to be told twice. with a grin that promised vengeance, you slapped down a draw two and pointed straight at niki. "take that." niki groaned dramatically, throwing his hands up. "come on! i’ve been playing nice!" "you call this nice?" sunghoon raised an eyebrow, his expression unimpressed. "you’ve been out for blood since we started playing." "it’s a conspiracy, i tell you," niki muttered, drawing his cards with exaggerated misery. the game went on, the laughter getting louder, the insults more colorful. pillows were tossed, blankets became weapons, and accusations flew with every wild card and draw two. jake, by now, was half off his chair, nearly toppling over as sunghoon blocked his turn with a skip card. "you traitor!" jake shouted, pointing an accusing finger at sunghoon, who just laughed and shook his head. "hey, don’t blame me," sunghoon said, grinning. "just playing the game, man." "psh, 'playing the game'," jake mocks, though his grin said otherwise. "you’re conspiring with jungwon, i swear." jungwon just waved him off, smirking. "don’t drag me into this. i’m just trying to survive." at some point, jay strolled in from the kitchen, a fresh bowl of popcorn in his hands. he stood there, watching the chaos unfold like he had just walked into a warzone. "you guys done yet?" he asked, tossing a handful of popcorn into his mouth. heeseung, who had been quiet most of the game, finally laid down his last card with a triumphant smirk. "done? i just won." the entire room fell into a stunned silence. "you what?" you said, blinking at him. heeseung just leaned back, hands behind his head, wearing the smuggest grin you’d ever seen.

for a second, there was silence until pillows were suddenly launched across the circle, blankets went flying, and everyone started yelling all at once. heeseung ducked, dodging pillows left and right then flinging one back, "hey, all part of the strategy!" jungwon wasn’t having it. "strategy, my ass," he muttered, pretending to sift through his remaining cards as if he was searching for evidence. "you’ve been stacking your deck or something." "i’ve been watching him," sunoo said, nodding, "he was playing fair and square." sunghoon shook his head, a grin creeping onto his face. "right. fair and square. just don’t come crying when we all come for your ass next round." niki threw up his hands. "hyung, let’s play again, rematch." heeseung grinned, leaning back with exaggerated confidence. "oh, bring it on. i'll just win again." "i’m definitely winning this round," jake muttered, but even he couldn’t hide the grin pulling at his lips as he tossed one last pillow straight at heeseung, hitting him square in the face making the eldest laugh as the cards were shuffled again. heeseung leaned back, hands behind his head. "don’t worry, y/n. you’ll get 'em next time." you leaned over, looking right into heeseung’s smug expression. "enjoy the victory now, but next game? you’re going down." "that a promise?" heeseung shot back, raising an eyebrow. "oh, you bet your ass it is." you grinned, already planning your revenge. the rest of the group echoed your threat, everyone promising vengeance, plotting strategies, and dramatically swearing alliances and betrayals. and for the rest of the night, every time someone grabbed a handful of popcorn or shifted their cards, they’d shoot heeseung a look, as if they were planning their next move. the game hadn’t started out this intense, but once niki suggested that whoever lost the worst was stuck with cleaning duty, the stakes shot up fast. no one wanted to be the poor soul left behind, picking up popcorn crumbs, sweeping up the sea of pillows, and scrubbing snack spills off the floor. so, naturally, everyone had turned ruthless.

“oh, hell no,” jay shouted, louder than anyone else, pointing around the circle. “i’m not touching a single crumb after this, y’all better bring your a-game, ‘cause i am not losing.” "whoever’s got the biggest hand at the end," niki had grinned, tapping his cards with a wicked gleam in his eye, "better get ready to be the cleanup crew." you all laughed then, but once it sunk in, no one was playing nice. cards were slapped down with extra force, threats flew, and fake alliances were forged and broken all over that circle. every skipped turn, every draw four, had everyone on edge, with you and the boys glaring over your cards like it was a high-stakes poker game. as the game heated up, jay’s voice was impossible to miss. every time he pulled a card, he’d let out an exaggerated groan or shout, making everyone laugh despite their best attempts to focus. "oh, hell no," jake groaned, already adding up the cards in his hand like his life depended on it. "i’m not cleaning this shit up." "better start dusting, jake," sunoo teased, grinning as he leaned back, his hand suspiciously low on cards. "maybe learn how to handle a vacuum." meanwhile, sunghoon was quietly stacking his cards, his face completely neutral, watching everyone like he was in a spy thriller. when someone got a particularly brutal draw, he’d just raise an eyebrow, muttering, “you brought this on yourself.” "this is bullshit," jake muttered, staring at the stack in front of him. “you’re all gonna pay for this next game.” "don’t be mad," heeseung called, looking way too satisfied as he watched the chaos. "someone’s gotta take one for the team, right?" by the time niki laid down his first draw two, jungwon had already sighed, barely even pretending to be invested. with each card he pulled, his resolve seemed to wane, but he kept a determined hold on just enough cards to stay in the game. "jungwon," you teased, nudging him with your elbow as he sat there with a half-hearted look. "you giving up already?" he glanced over, sighing dramatically as he shuffled through his bloated hand. “i’m not giving up. just... strategically surviving.” he gave a lazy shrug, tossing down a number card with no real hope behind it.

sunghoon, ever the cautious observer, raised an eyebrow at jungwon’s pitiful expression. “you call this surviving? you’ve got enough cards to wallpaper the living room,” he smirked. “as long as i’m not last,” jungwon replied with a shrug, looking utterly resigned. he glanced at the mess of pillows and popcorn around him. “no way i’m cleaning all this up.” you took a quick peek at your pile, letting out a quiet sigh of relief. not the worst, but close enough. "guess i won’t be cleaning, but looks like jake’s about to be on mop duty." "nope, the game isn’t over yet." jake muttered, pushing up his sleeves like he was about to start a real fight.  and when the final tally was in, everyone glanced at their cards, and all eyes landed on jake. there was a beat of silence before everyone burst out laughing, while jake just sat there, groaning in defeat. "guess you better grab a broom," you teased, patting him on the back. jake groaned again, slapping his stack of cards down with a defeated sigh. "i hate you guys."

the whole game had been absolute chaos, but it was the kind of chaos that made you feel alive. every nerve in your body buzzed with adrenaline. for a while, everything else faded—the oppressive heat, the constant anxiety that gnawed at the back of your mind. it was just you and the boys, and for once, the suffocating rules that always seemed to hang over you like a shadow melted away.

as you glanced around, sunghoon was yelling at niki, accusing him of cheating, while jake dodged an incoming pillow with a grin so wide it nearly split his face. across the room, heeseung was laughing so hard he could barely breathe, clutching his stomach. watching them, you felt something shift inside your chest. it wasn’t just the game or the way they made you forget your worries. it was something deeper. your heart felt full—a kind of fullness you hadn’t felt in a long time, maybe ever.

you had spent so much of your life feeling like an empty vessel, only filled by the commands of others—your father’s demands, his constant expectations. rules and decisions made for you without a single thought to what you wanted. your life had been nothing but obedience, fulfilling his orders, being the perfect daughter, never straying from the path he had carved out for you. but here, with them, it was different. they didn’t see you as someone who existed to perform duties or fit into a mold. they saw you. meeting them had to be one of the best things that had ever happened to you. not because they dragged you into wild games like this, but because, with them, you found something real. these weren’t forced connections or transactional relationships, though that was how it started. they were people who cared, who saw you, not just what you could do for them. you hadn’t realized how much you needed that until now. as jake flopped down next to you, breathless and grinning, you couldn’t help but smile. a real, unguarded smile. 

"you alright?" he asked, his voice softer now, like he could sense the change in your mood, glancing at you from the corner of his eye. "yeah," you nodded, feeling a warmth spread through you that wasn’t from the heat. "i think... i’m more than alright."  he flashed you that crooked grin, the one that always felt like home, before turning back to his brothers lost in their own worlds. "wouldn’t want you to miss out, you know." he wrapped his arm around your shoulder before gesturing towards the room. "all this? it’s for you anyway." his tone was teasing, but the look in his eyes told you he meant more than just the game. you leaned into him, just a little, and for the first time in forever, you weren’t thinking about the next thing you had to do, the next demand waiting for you. instead, you were here, in this moment, surrounded by people who made you feel like maybe, just maybe, you could find something outside the life that had been laid out for you. something for yourself. that thought nestled into your chest as you watched sunoo tackle jungwon, both of them collapsing in a pile of limbs and laughter. jake’s thumb absentmindedly brushed your shoulder in a way that was grounding, comforting, like an anchor. and for the first time in a long time, you felt that elusive sense of belonging. this was it. this was what you had been missing. it felt like family… that thought wrapped around you like a warm blanket. the laughter, the teasing, the way they all accepted you with no strings attached. it was something you hadn’t even realized you were craving until now. these boys, with all their wild energy, filled a space inside you that had been empty for too long. just as you were sinking deeper into that feeling, a bright flash blinded you, cutting through the moment. you blinked hard, rubbing at your eyes in confusion. "what the hell—?" you muttered, still seeing spots dance in front of you. sunghoon stood a few feet away, holding up a polaroid camera with a smug grin. "gotcha," he said, waving the photo around to dry it. "sunghoon!" you groaned, but despite your protest, a smile tugged at your lips. of course, he’d catch you in a vulnerable moment—that was so like him. always teasing, always finding a way to break through the serious shit with something lighthearted. he sauntered over, still grinning and held the polaroid out to you. your vision was still adjusting, but when the image finally came into focus, it hit you. there you were, jake’s arm slung over your shoulders, your head resting against him, a peaceful smile on your face. you hadn’t even realized how happy you looked. "you’re welcome," sunghoon said, nudging you playfully as he dropped the photo into your lap. your heart swelled as you scan it. it was a snapshot of something you hadn’t felt in ages—genuine happiness. just you, living in the moment.

"thanks," you muttered, as you held the photo in your lap, you looked up to find sunghoon watching you, his usual smirk softened into something else. his gaze was tender, almost hesitant, like he was seeing a part of you he hadn’t seen before. there was something in his eyes that made your heart skip, a quiet kind of warmth, and for a moment, everything around you faded into the background. “stay like that,” he murmured, lifting the camera again. “just you and jake.” you felt jake shift beside you, then his arm tightened around your shoulders, pulling you in just a little closer. you caught him looking at you, his eyes warm and a soft smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, the kind of smile that made you feel like you were the only one in the room. he leaned his head against yours, and his touch felt gentle, grounding, as if he was telling you without words that he was right there with you. “comfy?” he whispered, his voice low, barely loud enough for anyone else to hear. he glanced sideways, his grin widening as he caught the look in your eyes. “very,” you murmured back, feeling a flush of warmth creep up your cheeks. for a second, the world seemed to slow down, just you and him in that quiet bubble. “perfect,” he said softly, giving your shoulder a light squeeze as he pressed his cheek closer to yours, just letting the moment sink in. sunghoon adjusted the angle, his eyes lingering on the two of you with an almost protective fondness. but before he could press the shutter, sunoo popped up from nowhere, his face wide-eyed and eager. "wait, me too!" he exclaimed, practically bouncing into place, flashing a peace sign. sunghoon rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t help smiling as he adjusted the camera. "alright, guess we’ve got a group shot now."

“a group shot?” jay’s voice rang out from across the room, and before you knew it, he was striking an exaggerated pose behind you, puffing his chest out and giving the camera his best “model” face, making you all burst out laughing. right on cue, niki calmly sidled into the frame, controller still in his hand as if he hadn’t left his game and slotted himself in beside sunoo, he shot sunghoon a relaxed nod. heeseung, never one to be left out, wandered over with a relaxed smile and threw up a peace sign, leaning in just enough to claim his spot, his face radiating mock innocence. and jungwon, who had been observing the scene with growing interest, tried to squeeze in from the other side, his face barely visible as he squashed himself between heeseung and jake. his laughter muffled as he struggled to find space. you couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head, “guys, seriously? this was supposed to be a quick photo!” sunghoon just sighed, patiently waiting for everyone to settle before lifting the camera up again, his own grin breaking through as he tried to adjust everyone into the frame. “stop moving, ah—jungwon, we can barely see you.” “can you see me now?” jungwon said, pushing forward with a mischievous grin, barely visible in the sea of faces. "alright, everyone ready?" sunghoon said, barely containing his laughter as he looked through the viewfinder. you could tell he was struggling to keep the camera steady as everyone jostled for space, faces scrunched and shoulders squished together. "hold up, i’m not ready!" jay shouted, striking another absurdly dramatic pose. "jay, you’re ridiculous," you laughed, almost crying from how absurdly packed the frame was getting. “shhh,” niki muttered calmly, still holding his controller like a prop, acting like this entire scene was completely normal.

the camera clicked just as the whole group burst into laughter, caught mid-laugh, mid-shove, mid-chaos. sunghoon checked the developing photo with a grin, shaking his head. “you all look ridiculous.” “that’s the point,” you replied, beaming as you took in their happy, ridiculous faces. sunghoon eyes scan the developing polaroid, his eyes narrowing as he realized he wasn’t in it. he looked up, his face twisting into an exaggerated expression of betrayal. “hey! what about me?” he called out, waving the camera like he’d been wronged by the entire universe. “i’m not even in the photo!” the group turned back, snickering at his complaint. jay, hands stuffed casually in his pockets, shot him a lazy grin. “you’re the one who wanted to play photographer, man.” heeseung grinned, tossing up another peace sign like a model. “come on, just imagine we’re all posing for you, like… forever.” sunghoon groaned, feigning a wounded look as he crossed his arms, tossing you a playful pout. “wow, I see how it is,” he muttered, his eyes sparkling with mock betrayal. sunoo, laughing behind a hand, took in sunghoon’s overdramatic expression. “let’s take another one.” jake suggested, a mischievous smirk on his face as he nudged sunghoon. “hyung, hand me the camera,” niki said, reaching out a hand. “i’ll take the photo.”

sunghoon’s face lit up, and he quickly handed the camera over to niki, who stretched his arm out, adjusting the angle so it included him the angle. sunghoon took the chance to casually squeeze in next to you, bumping shoulders in a way that felt both natural and intentional. the other boys quickly shuffled back, this time forming a protective circle around sunghoon, making sure he’d have his spot. heeseung threw up another peace sign, jay threw in a thumbs-up, and sunoo gave a dramatic wink as everyone crowded in with their best exaggerated poses. jungwon even squeezed in front, leaning back onto jake’s shoulder with a grin, doing his best to hog the frame. “alright, everyone ready?” niki asked, holding up the camera with a small smirk. the group nodded, snickering as they tried not to move. the flash went off, freezing them all in a wild blur of laughter, goofy faces, and tangled arms. sunghoon’s grin was wide, his expression filled with something softer, content. this was it—the memory he’d been waiting for, finally captured, with him right in the heart of it all. the boys crowded together, laughing and nudging each other as they admired the photos, you bit back a frown when you realized, you didn’t want to leave—the thought of being away even just for a few days, to be separated from them, kind of made you feel anxious. like it just didn't feel right. maybe, just maybe, you’d found your place here... with them. but how could you keep it? could you even hold onto it? but you already knew the answer to that. the only way was to stay in control, to protect this fragile bond. it was too precious, too rare to risk. yet as much as you tried to ignore it, the quiet ache of your heat lingered at the back of your mind, a devil on your shoulder whispering, tempting you to let go, to surrender to their warmth, to let them in in ways that felt too dangerous. you gripped the necklace around your neck, fingers fidgeting with the useless pendant, the weight of it grounding but frustrating all the same. you wished it had worked longer, wished it would let you just be with them without the heavy veil of your heat creeping in. if it had, maybe you wouldn’t have to leave soon, wouldn’t have to find hyunjin for help managing it. would things have been different then? it’s unfair. a stupid set of rules, a fragile pendant meant to keep your own body in check, instincts you had to suppress—none of it felt like it should matter here. you wanted to break free of it, to just exist with them, let yourself lean in without second-guessing every move. but the rules had been carved deep, whispering caution even as you clutched the necklace, the pendant’s cool metal pressing into your fingers.

exhaustion hit everyone hard. it made sense—they’d come straight from work, thrown themselves into building that ridiculous excuse for a fort, and spent hours playing games without a single break. now, each of them was sprawled out on the floor, a tangled mess of pillows and blankets, looking utterly wiped. jungwon leaned against the couch, flicking through movie options with a lazy thumb, occasionally nudging sunoo, who was clutching a pillow tightly to his chest, eyelids fluttering with sleep. heeseung and niki were glued to their phones, nudging each other whenever something funny popped up, laughter breaking through their tired murmurs. sunghoon and jay sat side by side, both scrolling through reels, though sunghoon kept fiddling with the polaroid camera, occasionally glancing at the growing stack of photos he’d taken, a satisfied smile slipping across his face. jake lay stretched out on the floor, looking completely content, chatting lazily with jungwon and sunoo, his voice a low, soothing murmur. meanwhile, you stood in the kitchen, gulping down a glass of water like it was the only thing keeping you conscious. exhaustion tugged at your eyelids, daring you to give in, but you knew why you’d held out this long—because you were awake, fully aware, keeping your omega instincts in check. sleep, however, was another story. if you passed out here, surrounded by them, you couldn’t be sure you’d stay in control. especially not with how worn out you felt. when you walked back into the living room, jay nudged sunghoon, gesturing at the open spot on the floor beside him. “make some space, hoon,” he muttered, before glancing up at you. “hey, you can crash here if you want,” he offered, voice soft and sincere. you eyed the empty spot and shook your head, masking the hesitation with a lighthearted smile. “thanks, but I think I’ll just go back to my room,” you said with a light smile, keeping it casual even as exhaustion tugged at your resolve, softening the carefully set boundaries you’d tried so hard to hold. sleeping too close to them? not a chance. “nooo,” jake protested, his voice soft with a hint of a pout, disappointment flickering in his eyes. “you’re supposed to stay with us.” he held your gaze, brows knit, before glancing over at sunoo, a nervous plea in his expression, silently begging for support. you looked around, taking in their hopeful, almost sad expressions, and it made you feel like a complete ass for even considering leaving. after all, they’d set all this up for you. still, the thought of sleeping so close to them was risky, and you weren’t sure it was worth it. sensing your lingering hesitation, sunoo gave a gentle tug, subtly steering you away from the hallway that led to your room. “just this once, please?” he begged, pouting, his voice softening as he added, “we did all this so we could have a cute sleepover. it means nothing if you’re not here.”

your eyes darted between sunoo’s pleading gaze and jake’s hopeful expression, feeling the gentle pull of their insistence chip away at your last bit of resistance. “fine,” you sighed, finally relenting. “but i’m taking the couch.”

the moment the words left your mouth, sunoo clapped his hands together, his eyes lighting up as if you’d just made his day. he grinned wide, sending the other boys a triumphant look and they discreetly exchanged relieved glances, visibly relaxing.

you tried to get cozy, stretching out and pulling a blanket over yourself. the soft cushions enveloped you, and you could already feel your muscles slowly releasing the tension you hadn’t even realized you were holding. from here, you could still see them, hear the familiar hum of their voices, and it comforted you more than you’d admit. staying a little removed felt safe, like you could relax without dropping your guard completely. “sleeping already?” jake’s voice broke through the soft lull, warm with a teasing edge. you heard him shift on the floor, craning his neck to look up at you. “yeah, i need it,” you muttered, your voice already thick with drowsiness. “long day, and you guys wore me out.” sunghoon chuckled, still fiddling with the camera in his hands. “you're welcome,” he quipped just like he had before earlier in the night. he didn't even look up, but the smugness in his tone was clear. you rolled your eyes, snuggling deeper into the blanket as you turned your head away, feeling the weight of the day begin to fade. maybe it was the comfort of being here with them, or maybe it was just pure exhaustion, but you could feel the tension melting away, surrendering to the pull of sleep. “sleep tight,” jungwon called softly from his spot on the floor, his tone a mix of amusement and warmth, as if he knew exactly how close you were to drifting off. “night,” you murmured, the word barely a whisper as your eyes drooped, your mind already slipping into the quiet comfort of sleep. the boys’ gentle conversations blurred into a soft, soothing lullaby, filling the room with a sense of warmth and safety you hadn’t felt in so long. their voices slowly faded into the distance, and you were out. gone. they watched you for a second, just to be sure, exchanging glances before they started moving. jungwon motioned toward the blanket, eyes flicking to your peaceful face, and sunoo quickly tiptoed to heeseung’s room. he came back, holding the blanket out to heeseung like it was some sacred artifact, careful as hell not to wake you.

heeseung leaned in close, whispered a low, “okay,” his eyes flicking over to you, double-checking that you were out cold before he continued, “now, we scent it.” he knew damn well they were way over the line, wrecking every rule, stepping into territory they had no business touching.

but right now, none of that mattered. not with that pull he felt, the way you drew him in like gravity, tearing down every wall, no matter how wrong it was. he pressed the blanket hard against the back of his neck, feeling the heat of his skin sink deep into the fabric. she needs this, he thought, his chest tightening, an ache he couldn’t shake. this wasn’t just scent; this was his way of making sure you felt it, even if you didn’t realize it—felt that you were right where you needed to be.

with them.

the idea of never seeing you again scared the fuck out of him. there was no way he was backing out now. please, let this work, he thought, gripping that hope like a lifeline as he passed the blanket over to sunghoon, finally letting out the breath he hadn’t even noticed he’d been holding. sunghoon took it, looking down at the blanket clutched tightly in his grip. “you sure about this? what if it—” “just shut up and do it,” jay muttered. sunghoon shot him a glare, lips tight in silent protest. we shouldn’t be doing this, he thought, the doubt scraping at him. but he pressed the blanket against his neck anyway.

he wanted you—needed you—in a way he hadn’t realized before. he had known it the moment he’d snapped that photo of you and jake, that pang of something fierce and possessive twisting in his chest. he pressed the fabric harder against his neck, trying to ignore the flutter in his stomach, and passed the blanket to jungwon. jungwon held it, staring for a long second like it held every answer he’d been searching for. we’re really doing this, he thought, feeling a jolt of nervous excitement. his hyungs were watching him, eyes filled with some quiet, shared worry. jay leaned in, asked, “you good, or wanna back out?” jungwon swallowed, the question hovering in his mind for a split second. it’d be so damn easy to stop, walk away, stick to the rules. but when he looked at you, he knew there was no way. he shook his head, firm, “no.” taking a deep breath, he pushed down the nerves curling in his stomach, rubbing the blanket against his skin, his eyes closing as the weight of what they were doing sank in. yeah, they were breaking every rule, but he knew you were worth every bit of it. passing the blanket to sunoo, his heart pounded, but he felt more sure now than he’d ever felt. sunoo took it with a calm, almost serene expression, but there was a glint in his eyes, something intense flickering. without a second’s hesitation, he pressed it to his neck, rubbing slow, deliberate. she makes me feel safe, he thought, warmth filling him as he glanced over at you. it’s my turn now. you’d always broken through his walls, made him feel real, like he didn’t have to hide anything.

he nuzzled the blanket against his cheek, leaving a soft touch, almost like a promise. she deserves to feel protected. he handed the blanket to niki, a quiet smile slipping onto his face, feeling lighter than he had all night. niki hesitated, hands trembling as he took the blanket. he looked at you, worry clenching in his chest. he chewed on his lip, anxiety biting at him. but the thought of you needing him, of you turning to him, held him steady. he sighed, shaky but determined, rubbing his scent in a new spot, wanting you to know he’d be there, that he’d always have your back. doubt still lingered, though. he had wondered if he was doing the right thing, if he felt as strongly as his hyungs seemed to. maybe this will help me figure it out, he thought.

jake’s hand was already out, ready, no hesitation. he took the blanket from niki and rubbed it against his neck, down his chest, marking it, deep and sure, while the others rolled their eyes at him taking his sweet time. but jake stayed focused, letting the fabric sink against his skin. he tilted his head back, remembering the feel of your cheek against his, the warmth still there, seared into him. he cared about you in a way he hadn’t thought possible, more than he’d ever let himself admit. a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. he didn’t think he'd care this much. but he did. he had wanted to be close to you, to be someone you could count on. i want you to feel me.

jake raised a brow, glancing around at the rest of them—everyone's way too damn serious, and with a slow, shit-eating grin creeping up, he reached down, tugging at his waistband, gripping the blanket like he was seconds away from shoving down his pants. he wiggled his brows, waiting for someone to dare him to go through with it.

niki let out a loud snort, the sound echoing through the room, and they all panicked, eyes widening as they whipped around to check if you’d woken up. sunoo’s eyes went wide, hands flying to his mouth, a shit-eating grin spreading under his fingers as he watched heeseung snatch the blanket from jake’s hands, his expression torn between amusement and horror.

slowly, their gazes darted over to you, breaths held, every one of them frozen in place. jungwon clapped a hand over his mouth, but it was no use—he started wheezing, shoulders shaking as he leaned into niki, struggling to keep his laughter quiet. every time someone even breathed a little too loud, sunghoon would shoot them a look, half-serious, half-begging them to keep it together.

“dude,” heeseung whispered harshly, barely keeping a straight face, a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth giving him away. “can you not?”

jay snatched the blanket from heeseung, shooting jake a deadpan glare. “we’re trying to scent her, not kill her with the smell of your sweaty ball sack,” he muttered, shaking his head as he inspected the blanket, giving it a cautious sniff just to make sure jake hadn’t actually gone through with his little stunt.

the moment jay muttered “ball sack,” niki, jungwon, sunoo and even heeseung practically lost it, shoulders shaking as they desperately tried to hold in their wheezing laughter. niki bit down on his fist, eyes crinkling, while jungwon’s face was buried in niki’s shoulder, his whole-body trembling.

jay’s eyes narrowed, clutching the blanket like it was some sacred object, his voice barely a whisper as he glared at jake, “if this thing smells like you, i swear…”

jay being dead serious, only made things worse. niki’s hand slipped from his mouth, his shoulders shaking uncontrollably. all of them wheezing, doubled over, and sunoo had to turn away, his mouth pressed tight, eyes watering as he struggled not to burst out loud, their silent laughter making the whole thing ten times harder to control.

sunghoon glanced over at you, eyes widening when he saw you shift slightly, as if you might wake up. he immediately froze, finger pressed to his lips, frantically shushing everyone, trying to keep his own laugh in check. then he nudged jay in the ribs, mouthing, keep it down.

“what? i’m just trying to help scent it,” jake whispered mid-laughter, wiping the tears from his eyes. his tone was pure innocence, though the grin plastered on his face said the exact opposite. “figured it could use a little… extra.”

jay’s glare only intensified, which sent the group spiraling into yet another round of snickers. still wheezing, jake reached over and gave jay a light slap on the arm. “just scent the damn thing already." jay rolled his eyes, groaning. “ugh, last thing i need is all this crap up my nose.” but he brought the blanket up anyway, took a cautious sniff, and his expression shifted, a little surprised as he processed it. instead of being overwhelming, it was actually kind of mild, pleasant even. “huh, didn’t hate that as much as expected,” he muttered, rubbing it along his neck and then, without thinking, pressing it lightly against his lips like leaving a soft, invisible kiss. “corny,” niki had whispered, snickering as sunoo nudged him, both of them trying—and failing—to stifle their laughter. “just get on with it,” sunghoon muttered, exasperated. jay raised the crumpled blanket in his fist, holding it up threateningly like he was two seconds away from chucking it at sunghoon. “let me finish scenting, i waited for you idiots to finish, didn’t i?” he shot back, though his voice softened as he glanced over at you. the thought of you waking up, catching the scent, feeling that connection—it made it all worth this ridiculous ritual. with one last glance at you, he handed the blanket back, each of them leaving their own mark, like some messed-up bonding moment that they couldn’t deny was actually binding them together. heeseung exhaled through his nose, giving a final nod. “okay, that should be good enough.” he muttered.

“do we just… put it on her?” niki whispered, eyes darting nervously between the blanket and your sleeping form. “no, we should swap the one she’s using so the scent is stronger and right against her skin,” jungwon said, taking the blanket from jay. he tiptoed toward you, trying to keep his footsteps quiet, but as he reached to pull your blanket off, his hands hovered awkwardly in the air, clearly too freaked out to actually touch you. heeseung rolled his eyes, groaning silently as he waved jungwon back. “get back here.” he looked ready to get it done himself, but sunoo shook his head in distress. “hyung, i think i should do it,” sunoo whispered, looking dead serious. “no, me,” niki muttered, stepping forward. but before he could take another step, sunghoon, jay, and jake all whisper-yelled in unison, “not you!” niki blinked, eyes wide before his lips curved into a smirk, clearly amused by their collective distrust. he tried to keep a straight face, but sunoo shot him a warning look. “let me try,” sunghoon whispered, taking the blanket with shaky hands, bunching it up like he was about to do something serious. he moved towards you, but his hands were a disaster, darting forward, then pulling back like he couldn’t decide if he actually had the nerve to do it. he finally reached out to tug the blanket from your feet, but you shifted, and he froze mid-reach. the entire room went dead silent, nobody even daring to breathe. sunghoon stood there like a deer in headlights before slowly stepping back, shrugging at the others, whispering, “at least i touched it.” heeseung, throwing his hands up, finally stepped forward, determined to get it done. but the moment his foot hit something—sunghoon’s damn camera—he let out a quiet hiss, sucking in a breath and giving sunghoon a murderous look, his face saying, why the fuck would you leave that there?

“i can’t do it,” heeseung mouthed, throwing in the towel and retreating in silent defeat. jay, rolling his eyes and muttering under his breath, finally snatched the blanket from him, jaw set in pure determination.

he moved with quiet confidence, taking slow, measured steps, his face dead serious as if he were handling some high-stakes mission. his hands trembled slightly as he reached down, gently pulling the blanket from you, his heart hammering so loud he was sure everyone could hear it. but he didn’t stop. the others stood watching, eyes wide, holding their breath.

somehow, jay pulled it off, managing to slip the scented blanket over you like some protective shield without so much as a twitch from you. as he stepped back, they all let out a collective sigh of relief, each of them settling down in their spots, sneaking glances at you as you turned, face peaceful, your breathing steady. completely clueless.

"hyung, where’s the photo of me?" sunoo piped up, breaking the silence a little as he stretched his legs out in front of him, still hugging his pillow. sunghoon, looking momentarily confused, dug into his pocket and pulled out the polaroid of sunoo, smirking as he handed it over. "here, princess." sunoo snatched it from his hand, holding the photo up to inspect it under the dim light. "why do i look so sleepy?" "because you always look like that," jungwon teased from his spot on the floor, flicking the remote back and forth between channels though the volume was completely muted, never settling on one. "seriously, sunoo, that’s just your face." the group chuckled quietly, the conversation drifted from there, moving from random shit like sunoo’s perpetually sleepy expression to the latest shows they’d been watching and random gossip from work. it was the kind of mindless chatter that felt easy, something to fill the silence without waking you up. jake, lying flat on his back, stared up at the ceiling, occasionally chiming in, but mostly just letting the quiet buzz of their voices lull him into a more relaxed state. every now and then, he’d glance over at you, checking to make sure you were still fast asleep. "should we just put on a random movie?" jungwon finally asked, looking around at the others. "nah, no one's gonna pay attention," jay replied, not even looking up from his phone as he scrolled through reels. "we're all about to crash anyway." "yeah, i’m already half out," heeseung admitted, yawning and stretching out his legs in front of him. "let’s just call it a night. get some sleep." even as sleep began to tug at their weary bodies, their eyes stayed on you, watching the slow, steady rise and fall of your chest, you were the last thing each of them saw as their eyes finally fluttered shut. for now, they could only hope—hope that the night would pass quietly, that the blanket’s scent would be enough to ease you through till morning, to keep you steady, to keep you with them. one by one, they finally gave in, exhaustion overtaking them, and sleep crept in, pulling them under with lingering thoughts of you still warm in their minds.

as you drift into sleep, the soft warmth of the blanket wrapped around you feels like a gentle cocoon, its scent comforting, familiar—a grounding smell that lulls you deeper, safe and protected, even though you can’t quite place where it came from. at first, it’s calming, a quiet reassurance that you’re secure here.

you stirred, body reacting before your mind could catch up, your skin prickling as that heat began to build, the ache in your core waking up, restless. a thin layer of sweat covered your forehead, your legs rubbing together instinctively as your body sought relief. even in sleep, you could feel it—the undeniable pull of an alpha.

their scents wrapped around you until it felt like they’d seeped straight into your bones. each of them had something distinct, but together, they were a filthy mix of everything that made them alphas—all fire and smoke, sweetness and raw hunger, hitting you from every direction, pulling you under.

then things started heating up, literally. you felt hot, you felt like your body was on fire. your body jumped ahead of your brain, heat rolling under your skin, an ache sparking to life low in your belly. a fine line of sweat gathered at your hairline, your legs rubbing together, hips shifting like they had a mind of their own, slick gathering between your thighs, thick and warm, like your body was being prepared to let an alpha in. you’d needed an alpha to take you, claim you, fuck you so hard until the need was satisfied. the images of them came crashing in, faces burned into your mind like it was too much, like you were drowning in it.

the second your scent filled the room, every one of them went on high alert. you might as well have thrown match in gasoline. it was that instant, that consuming. their instincts kicked in, feral, tearing through the haze of sleep and snapping them all into focus. you were in heat—fuck, they could practically taste it, the desperation dripping off you, sweet and raw, like honey.

they sat up like they'd been shot, sleep fading fast—bed hair, dazed eyes still squinting, but the alpha in each of them fully fucking awake, ready, nerves wired tight. their eyes landed on you splayed out on the couch, a blanket barely hanging off one shoulder, your body writhing, a feverish mess. your heat was pure fucking fuel, demanding they give in to that raw, desperate need that felt like it would tear them apart if they didn’t satisfy it.

but jake? he was hit harder, more fucked up by it than the rest. he didn't move from his spot and is still lying on the mattress, one arm flung over his eyes like he could hide from it. your scent was thick, all vanilla and heat. just purely you. searing into him until his mouth went dry, and all he could think about was the taste of your sweet pussy. he’d peek every now and then, unable to resist, seeing you shivering on the couch, the scent of you making his whole-body burn, a quiet whine slipping past his lips before he could stop it. he wanted a taste so badly it ached. heeseung, though—quickly bolted, feet dragging him behind the couch like that’d save him, pressing against the backrest like he’d be safe if he kept it between you two. he towered over you, hands sliding under your armpits to lift you, pulling you up until you were sitting there, soft and pliant, your body weak against his. your head lolled back, landing against the couch’s backrest and heeseung’s gaze was locked on you. his eyes start taking in every fucking inch of you—your flushed cheeks, parted lips, eyes half-lidded but glazed, just staring blankly at him like you couldn’t even see straight.

he braced himself, knuckles white as he gripped the couch, fingers digging in so hard you could hear the faint creak of fabric under his hands. his gaze slid down to the curve of your neck, the way your collarbone glistened with sweat. your hard nipples poking through your top, teasing him, hard as diamonds, daring him, begging him to do something about it.

but his eyes kept coming back to the gland at your throat, pulsing, right there, bare and vulnerable, heat radiating off it. he just wanted to sink his teeth into you. the struggle was written across his face, muscles tensing as he held himself back, eyes locked onto that spot like it was magnetic.

heeseung took a sharp breath, nostrils flaring as he broke eye contact, forcing himself back against the couch, arms stretching out, trying to pull his shit together.

jay, on the other hand, cleared his throat, eyes darting around like he was desperately trying to think of something, anything, to distract himself. his gaze fell to your chest, nipples straining against that thin fabric, and he was out, voice rough as he muttered, “water. yeah. she needs water,” practically stumbling over his own feet as he headed to the kitchen. you could hear the water running, the sound pulling you a little out of the haze, making you sit up, hands pressing against the couch as you tried to orient yourself. but the heat wasn’t letting up, blurring the edges of everything, making it hard to focus. sunoo finally loosened his death grip on the pillow he’d been holding for dear life, hesitating before inching closer. he settled on the armrest beside you, sliding in on your left with this look of nervous determination. you barely even glanced at him, brows knitting together as you tried to piece together what was happening, and with a shaky right hand, he reached out, the back of it grazing your forehead. the touch sparked every nerve like he’d pressed some kind of switch. you felt your body respond, like a door had been opened. your pheromones, now more potent, more concentrated, leaked into every corner until they were all drowning in it. his eyes darkened, suddenly feeling a bit bolder that you weren't pushing him away. the sounds, the voices, the shuffling around you as they all reel—they might as well have been miles away because none of it existed in that moment. he was drinking in every second of it, like he’d been waiting for you to look at him like this, and his touch lingered, making you chase it, leaning in just to keep him close.

“she’s burning up,” he murmured, his fingers trembling as he brushed a few stray strands from your face, taking his time, moving slow, like he wasn’t even sure he should be touching you like this. when he tucked your hair behind your ear, you melt into his hand, sighing, your eyes fluttering shut, letting yourself just sink into the warmth of his fingers.

you felt a spark, that flicker of boldness that urged your tongue to flick over his finger, shy but intentional yet never breaking eye contact, like you were testing him, testing yourself. his teeth sank into his bottom lip, fighting back a groan, eyes locked on you like you were a damn fever dream come to life. the pure, unapologetic want, it made him shudder. he let out a rough sigh, his cock twitching painfully as his hand from your check now moved, fingers threading into your hair, sliding right to the nape of your neck his fingertips pressing just enough to send a tingle down your spine. he started rubbing circles into your scalp, slow and maddeningly gentle, but his eyes were anything but—they were dark, intense, that kind of look that made your pussy even wetter.

with a slow, almost teasing tug, he pulled your head back, his grip firmer, making you gasp and let out this small whimper. “yeah?” he murmured, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, like he knew exactly what he was doing, and fuck, he loved the effect he had.

“oh, you like that, huh?” his fingers tightened just a notch, and your lips trembled, barely managing a soft, shaky “yes—” before jay came crashing in, practically stumbling over his own damn feet as he shoved a glass of water between you.

“here, drink,” he muttered, clearly unaware he’d just bulldozed over whatever the hell was happening between you.

jay crouched down, pressing the glass to your lips, and you latched onto it, gulping desperately. water spilled down your chin, trickling along your neck, but you couldn’t care less—gripping his wrist like it was the only damn thing keeping you upright. you squeezed your eyes shut, drinking like you’d been dying of thirst, not realizing how much you needed it.

when you finally finished, he straightened up, and as your eyes fluttered open, relief and a strange gratitude flooded through you. “thanks,” you managed, voice barely above a whisper, but as you met his eyes, you felt your stomach drop.

jay’s stare was dark as hell, like he was mentally stripping you down and fucking you in his head. his gaze dropped, and you felt your stomach twist as you realized what he was zeroing in on. your nipples, hard and pushing through the thin fabric of your tank top, on full display.

your eyes widened, heat flooding your face. but when you looked back at him, he didn’t even pretend to be subtle—no shame, no hesitation, just raw, unfiltered hunger written all over his face. your heart raced, and you forced yourself to look away, snapping your gaze straight ahead, trying to find some kind of escape from whatever the hell was happening.

but then you saw it—right in front of you, his cock, hard as fuck, straining against his pajamas like it was ready to tear right through. if you inched even a fraction closer, you’d be able to…you licked your lips, the thought sending a pulse of heat through your whole body. your thighs clenched instinctively, and he noticed—could see in his eyes that he saw the effect he had on you, and he was loving every second of it.

his fingers gripped the empty glass so hard you heard the faintest crack holding back from whatever wild, impulsive thought had just blazed through his mind. he let out a tight, shaky exhale through his nose, jaw clenching, and somehow found it in him to pull away, heading back to the kitchen. but even as he walked away, you couldn't fucking relax.

the tension in the room so thick, it was like trying to breathe through cement. the water helped, if only a little, just enough to realize exactly what had gone down—how soaked you were from sunoo’s touch, the way your whole body had reacted, and now, with the fog clearing, you could see them all scattered around. chests heaving, expressions tight and their hard-ons weren’t exactly hiding, either, all tented up under the thin pajamas.

sunghoon was off to your right, back pressed against the edge of the sofa as he sat on the mattress on the floor. he’d chosen to stay down there, clearly putting some distance between you, his gaze unfocused, fixed somewhere off to the side, forcing himself to stay calm. then jake, lying just a foot from your feet, flat on his back, pillow smashed over his face as he clutched it for dear life, clearly trying to keep himself in check—but even that couldn’t hide the raging boner pressing through his pants, practically begging to be noticed.

jungwon groaned, head tipping back, and that sound tore your attention away from jake instantly. there he was, in the middle of the room, leaning back on his palms, legs crossed, looking like he was barely holding himself together.

when he straightened up, his eyes locking onto yours with a stare so sharp and fucking intense, you flinched. your pulse spiking under that gaze, every nerve lit up and on edge. the silence was deafening, so heavy you could practically feel it suffocating you, making it impossible to think past your scorching heat.

alpha, you force yourself to look away, trying to shake off the omega inside you, screaming for relief until your gaze landed on niki and jay sprawled out on the couch, both looking infuriatingly calm, legs spread wide, like they had all the time in the world to watch you crumble.

you managed to look away, but it didn’t help. your gaze landed on niki and jay on the couch, leaning back relaxed, legs spread out—niki with a glass of water pressed to his lips, watching, while jay just sat there, elbow on another couch's armrest, hands clasped over his mouth, rubbing at his jaw in this lazy, drawn-out way.

their stares burned into you, making you squirm in your seat, and that’s when you felt it. you cringed at the sticky sensation between your thighs and there it was—a dark, wet spot spread across your shorts and onto the couch. “shit,” you muttered, barely able to believe the state you were in—it looked like you pissed yourself.

your heart and body were at each other’s throats, a brutal clash of shame and pure, primal need. the embarrassment twisted your gut, the humiliation of them seeing you like this—desperate and fucking leaking. yet, underneath that shame, the hunger burned like wildfire. you needed them—alphas. your whole body was screaming for it, every ounce of reason obliterated by that raw, gnawing desire.

you mumbled incoherently, the words slipping out before you could even process them, every thought battling against that relentless instinct, “no… i—” you choked, barely holding it together. “i’m—fuck.” your mind couldn’t string a damn thought together; it was all slipping, your face betraying the struggle, the war between want and horror clear as day.

your gaze flicked over each of them, eyes filling with that undeniable hunger, only to fall back into shame, horror twisting through you as you realized how fucked-up this all was. tears burned at the corners of your eyes, blurring your vision as another fierce, agonizing throb pulsed through you, wrenching a raw, desperate cry from deep in your throat.

the need clawing at you so hard you thought it might tear you apart. you tried to cling to the rules, the boundaries you’d fought so hard to keep, forcing yourself to remember why you had to hold back, why you couldn’t give in. your father, everything that would be on the line if you lost control—it should’ve been enough.

but it wasn’t.

you needed them. fuck, you needed them so bad it was painful, each second making it harder to hold onto any control, barely able to breathe. another strangled, broken cry tore out of you felt yourself completely shatter, seeing white spots, your head dropping, nothing but a numbing pain in your head.

your heat had completely taken over, burning you up from the inside, blurring everything around you until nothing else fucking mattered. every single one of them was staring, those gazes pinning you down, making you feel stripped bare, more desperate by the second, like there wasn’t a single barrier left to hold onto.

you squeezed your eyes shut, head falling back against the couch as a shaky, breathless gasp slipped out. the relentless, throbbing ache between your legs drove your hips forward, your back arching as your legs spread wide, exposing just how fucking far gone you were. a desperate, needy whimper escaped your lips, like you were calling them to look, to see the filthy mess you’d made of yourself, practically begging without words, offering everything.

your face said it all—nothing but raw, unfiltered want, pure fucking need written all over you. every tremor, every heavy breath, showed that you’d given in, that you’d let them do whatever the hell they wanted without a second thought.

your toes curled against the mattress, another wave of hot-as-fuck heat slamming through you, ripping a gasp from your throat, your vision going blinding white. a raw, guttural groan tore out of you, the burn eating you alive from the inside out. "fuck, it’s hot," you panted, barely getting the words out.

you looked around at them, eyes flicking between each one, desperate, damn near trembling, but the looks on their faces—like they were about to pass out from fighting it off—told you they knew exactly how much danger they were in, what kind of risks they'd be taking. your gaze finally landed on sunoo, leaning back like he had all the time in the world, elbow propped up on the couch, hand against his cheek, smirking.

"sunoo," you croaked, voice thin and needy, head drooping as that dizzy heat climbed up, making your mind swim in some fucked-up haze. "it hurts," you barely choked out, throat tight like you’d swallowed gravel. you had to scrape together whatever shred of dignity you had left just to raise your eyes back to him, voice barely a whisper, "help."

that one little word shattered jake. he rolled over, face buried in the pillow, muttering a pissed-off, muffled “fuck,” grinding his rock-hard dick into the mattress like that’d actually help anything. but your scent was everywhere, thick, dizzying, making his head spin so bad he couldn’t stand it. finally, he pushed himself up on his elbows, all fight drained out of him, staring at you like he was one second away from losing his goddamn mind.

every drop of blood in his body surged south as his eyes locked on the wet spot between your thighs, his mouth going bone-dry. he swallowed, dragging himself over, his hand trailing up your ankle, and you flinched, letting out a little squeak that might’ve been cute if he wasn’t already so gone.

he kept his head low, like he was trying to play it cool, but his hands were shaking, practically vibrating. fuck, he couldn’t help it—he wanted to bury his face right there, needed it like a junkie looking for a fix.

“jake,” heeseung’s voice cut in, low and warning, coming from right behind you. it took you a second to realize he’d been right behind you this whole time, watching everything, just barely out of your line of sight—he’d seen everything. you couldn’t help but wonder what kind of look he had on his face now.

jake let out a low, irritated grunt, clearly not planning to back down. "but she smells so fucking good," he shuddered, both hands sliding from your ankles up to your thighs, the sensation making your hips roll. feeling a bit bold, you spread your legs for him, desperate for him to touch you where you wanted him to.

seeing how much you'd leaked for them made him groan, "oh, fuck," his voice barely holding steady. his grip dug deeper into your thighs, dragging out a choked gasp, and the moment you whimpered, "jake, please," you thought for sure he'd dive right in.

instead of going where you thought he’d go, jake’s head dropped down, his face pressing right into the soaked spot you’d left on the cushion. he inhaled deeply, like a man starved, groaning as his eyes rolled back, looking completely fucking gone on you.

he didn’t just stop there—he pressed his mouth to the damp spot, licking it up with a filthy, shameless moan, sucking on the fabric like he’d lost all sense of control. “mhm, fuck… oh, fuck… shit, i can taste your pussy,” he muttered, voice muffled against the cushion, “so fucking good.”

the sounds he made—wet, obscene, downright dirty—had a low, desperate moan slipping out of you. you couldn’t stop yourself, your hips rolling up as you matched his moans, feeding off his raw desperation. every rough inhale, every filthy lick sent another shiver through you, soft, breathy whimpers escaping like you were both spiraling down, locked in that hazy, needy loop.

he growled into the cushion, voice dark and hoarse, “fuck, keep moaning like that, just keep doing that for me,” and you couldn’t help it, matching every damn sound he made, his mouth glued to the cushion like he was getting high off it, like he’d fucking die if he stopped.

heat had pooled low in your stomach, every inch of you throbbing, dripping, and jake was clearly aware of every last drop. his head snapped up, his breath hitching, eyes wide, pupils dark and blown with lust. “fuck… your pussy just keeps leaking,” he groaned, voice a raw mess.

“i can smell it—fuck, i can smell all of you,” he whimpered, his tongue slipping out as he panted, his gaze locked on you. “please… lemme touch myself,” he choked out, voice barely holding together. “please, wanna cum just from smelling you, from having your pussy right here.”

his whole body trembled, words coming out in a desperate, messy rush. “i won’t put it in, i swear… fuck, just let me… get off to your perfect fucking pussy,” he’d panted, glassy-eyed, his hips bucking up into nothing. you nod, whispering an “okay,” but heeseung’s voice cut through the haze.

“jake, that’s enough. stop.” his gaze locked on jake, a warning that was impossible to ignore, his tone dripping with authority, like he knows very damn well how things would go past the point of no return if this kept up.

jake snarled, downright furious at being told to stop, the fucking audacity of it clear in his glare as he shot daggers at heeseung.

“are you fucking serious?” he muttered under his breath, cursing every inch of ground heeseung was holding. even as he begrudgingly started to pull back, his whole body was tense, practically vibrating with the effort to hold himself back.

the second you felt him start to pull away, you lunged forward, a desperate, pissed-off “no!” slipping out as you hooked your arms around his neck, panting, “i don’t want him to stop... and it's not enough.”

without waiting for an answer, you tugged him back down, pressing his face hard against your soaked pussy, ignoring heeseung’s command completely, practically begging for it as you held him there.

jake needed no more convincing. with a muffled groan, he buried himself right back in, his mouth finding your clit through the fabric, flicking his tongue over it like he was making up for lost time.

“it’s okay,” you whispered, voice thick with need, and his eyes snapped up, a wicked gleam in them as you murmured, “just… don’t take off my panties.”

his eyes flashed with gratitude, like that was a damn blessing. “fuck yes,” he breathed, voice rough as he muttered a hasty, “thank you,” his hand sliding down, eager, finally wrapping around his cock.

he didn’t even try to hide his relief, his whole-body trembling like he’d been waiting for this forever. you couldn’t see exactly how hard he was from your angle, but the rough, slick sounds of him jerking himself off told you enough.

he let out a sharp, strangled yelp as he pumped himself faster, not holding back. his tongue flicking your clothed clit, hard enough to have your back arching off the couch. his mouth working you like he was hooked on it, and that stopping now would be his own personal hell.

jake groaned, his mouth forming a perfect “o” as he nuzzled deeper, practically huffing your scent like it was his own personal brand of fucking ecstasy. his words spilled out, raw and barely coherent, “i—i can't help it, fuck… your scent is fucking everything, makes me so hard,” his voice desperate as he mumbled, “smells so fucking good, so fucking perfect.”

“don’t stop, it feels so good,” you whimpered, a high, desperate moan escaping as his mouth pressed into you, sucking hard on your soaked shorts, though by now it was probably full of his saliva, your legs shook, head falling back, eyes rolling back in pure need as he devoured you without mercy.

he rocked his tongue against you in slow, teasing kitten licks, making you roll your hips against his mouth, matching his rhythm as he kept pumping himself. each muffled moan from him sent vibrations through you, amplifying the pressure, his eyes glued to yours as he imagined fucking you, the image so vivid that a high-pitched moan ripped out of him, loud and desperate.

god, you were shaking—your body trembling so hard he looked damn near smug. he fucking loved it, loved seeing you wrecked beneath him, his chin slick with spit as he finally pulled back, breathless but grinning like the devil himself.

“you said as long as the panties stayed on, right?” his fingers hooked into the waistband, tugging, like he was dying to pull them down but playing on that technicality.

you were so lost in the sensation, head thrown back, vision blurring with spots, that when you looked up, your gaze locked with heeseung’s. his smoldering stare sent a cold shiver down your spine, dark, intense, and hungry. even from this angle, he was practically swallowing you whole.

“y/n, you’re not fucking thinking straight,” jay’s voice cut through the haze, rough and uncertain, as he shifted forward from the other couch, clearly torn between holding himself back and throwing himself into the mix.

the way you’d lifted your hips, practically offering yourself to jake, had him thinking maybe—just maybe—you’d let him do something he’d been dying to do.

but jay’s words barely even registered, all you heard was the pounding in your head, all you felt was jake, and your eyes stayed locked on heeseung’s, who looked like he was one moan away from snapping.

his chest heaved, lips parted as he watched you with that razor-edge stare, his pupils blown. you could see his adam’s apple bob as he swallowed hard before growling, “you’re breaking the rules, omega.” like he was fighting his own damn instincts. “this shit stops now before it gets any worse.”

you wanted to snap back, but words escaped you, your body still shaking, mind fried by the way jake worshipped you, licking along the edge of your panties, his tongue dragging over the bare skin where your arousal had trailed down, his hot breath making you squeal.

a flicker of a filthy smile tugged at your lips, which only made heeseung’s cock twitch in response. oh, that look on your face was pure, calculated defiance.

but you weren’t backing down—not with jake making you feel so fucking good, not with every nerve in your body lit up, craving them even more. craving more alphas. craving your alphas.

“touch me, alpha. please.” you whisper, pleading, breath hitching as jake’s mouth drove you further, putting every ounce of energy into making sure your pussy was swollen by the time he was done.

the couch creaked under heeseung’s grip, his fingers digging in so hard you half expected it to splinter. he took a sharp breath through his nose, clearly fighting the urge to roll his eyes at the audacity of it all.

you, looking up at him with those needy eyes, fucking begging, was something he’d only ever dared to imagine. and here it was, right in front of him, sounding so much better, so much filthier than anything he’d conjured up in his head.

“it’s not breaking the rules if you don’t fuck me,” you gasped, every word coming out between heavy, desperate breaths, like you didn’t give a damn about the consequences, only the way he was looking at you.

heeseung’s nostrils flared, his gaze snapping to jake, still kneeling on the mattress, nestled between your thighs like he’d found his own personal heaven.

jake dragged his tongue in a slow, filthy stripe from your soaked panties all the way up the back of your thigh, savoring every inch, and then straightened on his knees. his cock hit the edge of the couch as he rose, grinding against it in a needy, helpless motion as his mouth worked its way up to the curve behind your knee, clearly just as gone as you were.

when his tongue reached the sensitive curve behind your knee, he shot heeseung a look—his gaze was pure fire, an unspoken don’t even think about interrupting, and heeseung’s lips twitched, barely holding back his amusement as he caught the silent claim.

heeseung’s gaze narrowed, but he held back, that slight, cocky smirk playing at the corner of his lips as he let jake have his moment. jake had let your legs dangle back over the couch, spread wide, exactly the way it was the first time you offered yourself to him.

heeseung just stepped back, his hands easing off the backrest, sending knowing looks to the other alphas around you as if silently giving them the go-ahead.

and it was sunghoon who moved first. not even bothered to glance at heeseung, his eyes were locked onto you, his focus unshakable. his footsteps padded softly across the room, and your breath hitched as you felt the sofa sink slightly on your right. your eyes snapped open, and there he was, sunghoon, sliding down onto one knee beside you, his gaze intense, like he didn’t give a damn about the other alphas circling you—he was here for you.

the couch creaked as he leaned closer, his slender fingers trailed up the length of your arm, leaving a searing path that made you shiver. by the time he reached the curve of your neck, your lip was caught between your teeth, eyes fluttering shut as a shudder ran through you under his touch.

meanwhile, jake was in his own little world, half-mumbling, half-gasping, “fuck… fuck, i think i’m gonna cum,” he choked out, sounding like he was a breath away from completely losing it. “gonna cum because of you, ‘cause of your fucking pussy… oh god,” his voice shook, his hand working faster, his face a mess of need and sheer desperation.

sunghoon’s head dipped, his nose brushing over your shoulder as he inhaled your scent, a low rumble vibrating from his chest. when his nose caught on your strap, he used it to pull the fabric down, exposing your bare shoulder.

he traced along your collarbone, his lips stopping right above your pulsing gland, and you could feel his restraint thinning. his breath grew hotter against your skin, tickling your neck as his hand came up to cup your cheek, turning your face to him, his eyes flicking from your lips to your eyes, dark and intense.

“sunghoon,” you murmured, your voice barely a whisper, but he was already leaning in, his gaze tracing every inch of your face. his thumb swiped across your lips, his own voice low, intimate, almost possessive.

"can i kiss you?"

god, he smelled amazing—orchid and sensual musk invaded your senses, turning your brain to mush. you were about to answer a 'yes' but the sound barely made it out before he crashed his mouth against yours, all that “patient sunghoon” gone to hell.

his tongue dragged along your bottom lip, groaning into your mouth, hot, sloppy, claiming every inch of you with each flick. saliva dripped down your chin as his tongue tangled with yours, and each breathy, muffled moan was swallowed, his touch setting every inch of you on fire.

the wet, filthy sound of your kiss filled the room, his mouth covering yours like he was starving. you could barely breathe, your whole body responding to him, your pussy clenching at the intensity.

jake saw it, too—the subtle twitch of your soaked panties, and it damn near drove him insane. he looked up, eyes darkening when he saw sunghoon devouring you, and he let out a loud, choked moan against your pussy, the vibration making your hips buck.

jake was a mess, muttering half-intelligible curses, his voice a wrecked jumble of sounds. “fuck… fuck, you're so hot, i wanna—” he gasped out, breath coming in sharp pants, his whole-body twitching like he was barely holding on.

“gonna cum just from your pussy… you’re doing this to me… oh god,” he whined, his voice barely holding it together, all shaky and desperate, as his hand pumped faster, any shred of self-control long gone. he looked up at you, completely fucking wrecked—hair a mess from how many times you’d yanked on it, his pajamas sticking to his skin, nearly translucent from how drenched in sweat he was. he looked like he’d been through hell and was ready to thank you for it, mouth hanging open, gasping like every breath was a battle.

“shit, hoon. keep doing that,” jake muttered, voice shaky as he grazed his teeth lightly into your thigh, like he was trying to mark you, too, before dropping his head, his nose pressing right against your clit, whimpering. rocking into his fist like a puppy in heat.

“she’s getting so fucking wet,” jake huffed, voice garbled as his hips bucked into his hand, the slick sounds growing louder, every garbled “yes, yes” tumbling out as his balls slapped against his palm.

completely transfixed by the way your body responded to sunghoon’s kiss, he let out another desperate groan, practically ripping his pants down to his knees, his cock springing free, hard and slick with precum.

heeseung shifted behind you, his presence wrapping around you like a second skin, and your stomach twisted in anticipation, pulse pounding as he leaned in, slotting himself between the make out session with hoon.

his hot breath against your neck as he ran his tongue along your earlobe. you jerked, a shiver running through you, breaking the kiss with sunghoon as he pulled back slightly, his lips lingering, gaze locked onto yours, completely entranced.

“are we making you feel good?” heeseung’s voice was low, teasing in your ear, like he didn’t already know the answer. his smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth as he glanced over at sunghoon, who hadn’t taken his eyes off you, fingers drifting from your cheek, trailing down between your breasts. the touch made you arch your back, a gasp slipping out as the overstimulation tore through you, and heeseung just chuckled, amused.

but sunghoon didn’t even spare heeseung a glance; he was fully fixated on you, his mouth crashing back against yours, hungrier than ever after watching you melt under his touch. his tongue swirled around yours, fingers teasing your nipple lightly, pulling a moan from you, and the second you made that sound, he pressed his hard cock against your thigh.

the heat and thickness of him was clear through his pajama pants, grinding up against you, his large hands squeezing your tits firmly, letting out a low, almost animalistic growl into your mouth. his restraint was barely hanging on, his hands trembling with the urge to just rip your shirt off and suck your nipples.

you pulled back slightly from sunghoon, a string of saliva connecting your lips, and you swore you heard him grunt, almost in protest. before you could process the heated gaze he was giving you, another hand snaked around to the nape of your neck. fingers threaded through your hair, giving it a firm tug that had you groaning, and when you turned, you found sunoo, a flicker of a smirk playing on his lips.

his eyes were locked onto the way your jaw went slack, body quivering under all the touches, your hazy, hooded gaze meeting his as you gasped, pitch rising with every touch.

“you never answered the question,” sunoo chuckled, letting the confusion settle on your face for a second before he leaned in close, whispering sweetly into your ear, his voice as smooth as honey but laced with wicked intent.

“are we making you feel fucking good?” he purred, his innocent tone only adding to the tension, knowing exactly what he was doing as you moaned, overwhelmed, the sound slipping out in answer to his deceptively sweet question.

you found yourself answering back, breathless and barely holding it together, “mm, y-yes…” the words slipped out as sunoo’s grip on your hair tightened, forcing you to look back down at jake, who was latched onto your clit, sucking like he was a man possessed.

every time he pulled on the fabric, a filthy, wet sound filled the air, and his throat rumbled like he was having the time of his life. he looked wrecked, like he was hanging on by a thread, his eyes glazed, practically short-circuiting down there.

“yeah?” sunoo’s voice was hot and smug in your ear, like he found it downright hilarious that you were losing it. “you really like this?” he sounded like he was enjoying every second of making you admit it, watching you crumble under their touch.

“yeah,” you mewled, suddenly embarrassed, squeezing your eyes shut as your voice wobbled. “making me feel so good, alphas,” you managed, feeling that heat rise to your cheeks.

“we know, baby,” he coaxed, each word smooth as sin. “but why don’t you tell us just how good jake’s making you feel?” his voice held that tone that said he knew exactly what he was doing, pulling those words right out of you.

jake looked up, catching your eyes, clearly loving the attention as he slowly lifted himself from between your legs, ready to hear whatever you were about to say.

and that’s when you got a real look at him—his cock, flushed and leaking, practically dripping with every needy stroke. veins were popping out along his arms, and his throat was rough from all the hoarse moans he’d been making. his cock bobbed with each pump, tip flushed pink, aimed right at you. you could tell by the look on his face that he was in another world, where he was fucking you senseless.

“oh god,” you gasped, barely able to handle it, eyes wide. “jake,” you whimpered, “i—i love it, fuck, you make me and my pussy feel so good.”

every word out of your mouth seemed to push him further over the edge. practically drooling as he choked out a broken, “fuck, yeah, i do,” his voice coming out in a tangled mess of need. his hand pumped harder over his cock, mumbling nonsense. “god, that pussy… i’ll do anything for that pussy, fuck,” he babbled, half-gone, just saying whatever the hell popped into his head.

sunoo’s gaze burned into you, his jaw clenched, and he looked about ready to combust. his cock twitched in his pants for what felt like the hundredth time today, every reaction you made engraving itself into his memory. the way you thrashed and moaned at jake’s words?

yeah, that was doing a number on him, too. overstimulated didn’t even begin to cover it, you were making sounds so high-pitched, so obviously wrecked, that sunoo had to bite back a curse. fucking perfect. he mouthed the word, like he was branding it.

even sunghoon, who had been holding it together, found himself palming his cock through his pants, gaze zeroed in on your face, his breaths coming heavier with every gasp you let out. he leaned down, his tongue darting out to lick a slow, heated line up your neck, and he groaned low, his voice pure gravel. when you squeaked, he didn’t hesitate, crashing his mouth against yours, completely ignoring the concept of subtlety.

he went right for it, fucking his tongue against yours like he was in a race. you tried to pull back for air, whining, but he just followed, not letting you escape for a second. his hand wrapped gently around your throat, keeping you in place with that maddeningly confident grip, tilting your head just so, while sunoo’s fingers slid through your hair, making sure you weren’t going anywhere.

sunoo had to practically glue his fingers to keep from gripping tighter, his hand itching to hear a filthy, breathless moan rip out of you, imagining you falling apart just for him.

his little daydream, though, was cut short by heeseung, who leaned in close, voice a rough whisper in your ear, “this is what you could have,” like he was spelling it out for you with every breath, making damn sure you felt it.

you tried to answer, but sunghoon was having none of it, mouth devouring every word, every sound, like he was staking his own claim right there.

finally fed up, sunoo leaned in, unable to stand on the sidelines a second longer, pressing a hot, sloppy kiss along your jaw, inching up till his tongue flicked over to your ear, letting you know he wasn’t about to stay out of the fun.

heeseung, practically growling in your other ear, sounded like he wanted to make sure you don't forget how good they can make you feel. “just give in to us,” he muttered, and there was no mistaking the intensity, he was dead serious.

“we’ll never do anything you don’t want,” heeseung murmured, his voice dipping into a sweet, seductive torture. you hadn’t even realized your eyes were shut, losing yourself in the mess of sensations they were pushing you into. you could practically see it all—their breaths hot on your skin, every touch leaving a brand, that you were theirs, and each whisper making it harder to remember where you were.

you started shaking, feeling that orgasm building, and jake could fucking sense it. they were relentless, crowding you like they were intent on suffocating you—in the best possible way. you were addicted to the feeling of sunghoon’s mouth on yours, so lost in the kiss that you grew bolder, tugging on his bottom lip, biting it just enough to make him groan. when he poked his tongue out, you didn’t hold back, sucking on it, making him moan huskily. jake? he absolutely lost it. watching you suck on sunghoon’s tongue, hearing you slurping his tongue, he was practically drooling. he poked his own tongue out as if he wanted his turn, looking absolutely wrecked with his throat raw and his knees digging into the mattress, burning from holding his weight.

his dick was throbbing, almost painfully, and he knew his orgasm was going to take him out. he couldn’t hold himself up anymore, doubling over, pressing his face against your panties—now soaked and carrying the scent of his spit—and he rubbed his face against you with a frantic, desperate need, wheezing as his own release finally crashed over him, intense and earth-shattering. his body convulsed, every muscle trembling as he let that euphoric wave hit him.

he let out the loudest, most broken moan, sounding like he was on the edge of tears, dragging it out, his cock slamming against the edge of the couch as he rubbed into it, imagining he was buried deep inside you. his volume had both you and sunghoon pulling away, momentarily stunned by how damn loud he was. thick spurts of cum decorated the mattress in messy splashes, each one making him shudder, his body jerking with every pulse, letting out a string of harsh, broken grunts.

even as he came, he didn’t look away from you. his eyes stayed locked on yours, fixed in that raw, desperate stare, not even when sunghoon had his tongue down your throat. it was like he needed you to see every raw, unrestrained second of him falling apart, needing you to feel just how much he wanted you, every inch of him laid bare.

jake’s face was flushed, his knees throbbing red-hot from the brutal time he’d spent kneeling there, but none of it mattered. he was supposed to be the alpha in control, but right now? he looked utterly wrecked, having just gone through one of the most intense orgasms of his life—all from your scent alone.

under normal circumstances, they’d be all over him with teasing, giving him endless shit for falling apart like that, but this time, they just watched in silent understanding. they knew exactly what it felt like to be at the mercy of the effect you had on them. any one of them in his place would’ve ended up just as ruined, just as desperate.

jake’s body finally gave out, and he collapsed face-down onto the mattress with a heavy thud, utterly spent. his chest heaved as he struggled to catch his breath, a faint sheen of sweat glistening in the low light. sprawled out, limbs loose and useless, he looked completely blissed-out, his cheek pressed against the fabric, eyes half-lidded, lost in the afterglow.

the room was thick with the aftermath, everyone feeling the weight of it, and as jake lay there, still shuddering from the intensity, his soft, broken whimpers were the only sound, muffled against the mattress. he’d given everything, left it all there, and the way he just lay there, barely able to move, was proof enough that he’d been pushed beyond his limit.

but you? your orgasm never hit, and it hurts. literally. breath coming in short gasps as you watched jake sprawled out on the mattress, knocked out cold.

you scanned the room, silence thick and suffocating as three pairs of alpha eyes watched you, expressions unreadable, while sunghoon and sunoo released their hold on you, giving you space to breathe—though it didn’t do much for the blazing ache in your core. the intensity of it only reminded you that, despite everything, your heat was still roaring, and you hadn’t even gotten close to satisfaction.

then it hit you. the sinking realization that you'd let things go too far, completely ignoring the damn rules, caving to your desires. you barely muttered, “i fucked up,” scrambling off the couch, legs weak and trembling as you tried to stand, almost toppling over. “i should’ve stayed away,” you mumbled, mostly to yourself, as if that was going to do anything to calm your need for an alpha.

“y/n!” sunghoon’s voice was sharp, almost making you stumble again, the mere sound of his voice sending another jolt down to where you were still aching, and every nerve in your body betrayed you, urging you to turn back and let them finish what you started.

but you pushed forward, not even daring to look at niki, jay, or jungwon as you rushed past them, cheeks burning from the sheer mess of spit and slick you were covered in. god, you felt like you’d walked out of some x-rated romcom gone way too far.

jungwon’s gaze followed you, noticing the unsteady wobble in your steps. he knew your door well—the weight of that damn thing was intimidating, and he could already picture you struggling to close it behind you. “shit, she’ll be too weak to even shut her door,” he mumbled to himself, striding after you.

truthfully, he’d only planned to help you close it, nothing more. but as he saw you slipping closer and closer to disappearing through that heavy metal door, a flash of dread shot through him. the thought of it locking you away, shutting you out, sent a pang of panic through his chest, and before he could stop himself, he reached out, his arm wrapping around your waist, pulling you back against him, chest pressing flush against your back.

that familiar, cinnamon scent surrounded you, grounding you, only making you realize who it was: jungwon.

you felt his heartbeat pounding against you, fast and strong, as he nuzzled into your neck, inhaling deeply like he was savoring every second. his grip tightened, his breath getting hotter as his hard-on pressed insistently against the back of your thigh.

you heard jungwon start to say something, but the words got caught in his throat, cut short as you were suddenly pulled away from him. before you even had a second to process, heeseung’s hand was firmly on your arm, guiding you to your door. before you knew it, a gentle push sent you stumbling forward.

the coldness of the room felt surreal against your heated skin, and as you blinked in surprise, the metal door behind you slammed shut, the sound echoing.

the silence was thick, deafening, the weight of the locked door settling over you like a shock.

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[radioactivepeasant]

Free Day Friday redux

Since tumblr wanted to wreck the formatting on my last one and make it unreadable for anyone on dark mode, here's the text, hopefully, without issue

Almost midnight and brain cheerfully whispers 

"Damas death scene but close to a light eco vent and Jak tries to heal him." 

Damas has never been exposed to that much at once, unfiltered. Jak can't control how much he's channeling from the vent, he's too distraught. 

And he ends up changing Damas in the way the Dark Warrior Program changed him. Damas can't control the light eco transformation. He looks like some kind of ascended being, trapped in a more powerful form and unable to utilize his new powers in a way that would deplete the eco and let him de-transform. 

Would people consider him dead? A changeling? A Precursor-king? 

Jak would feel so guilty, having put this on Damas's shoulders without him having a say in it. ______________________________________________________________

He's guilt stricken, he's horrified, he's so sorry, Damas please 

He doesn't know he's Damas's son, Damas doesn't know he was always Jak's father and not just recently his father. 

Jak thinks of the Arena, thinks he knows what Damas's wrath looks like (he doesn't, he's seen only the strongest commingling of worry and frustration) 

His war amulet feels meaningless. He has betrayed his king. The one ruler he chose to serve willingly. The only adult in his life to see his darkness and embrace it as simply part of him. And look what Jak's done to him. He deserves what is coming but he's still just a boy and he can't help pleading for forgiveness. 

And Damas sees a child, stripped of his tough protective shell, terrified beyond words -- is he so horrible to look upon? -- pleading 

incoherently for either forgiveness or mercy, he can't tell which. Tears stream down his face, making him look disturbingly young. "I didn't mean to- I didn't mean to, Damas, please-! Please forgive me! I-I-I lost control of it, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!" 

Jak doesn't beg. Jak never pleads. 

This is profoundly wrong and he knows this in his heart although he cannot quite fathom the depths of the wrongness he feels. He only recognizes that he does not want this boy to kneel before him. He has never been so formal before, it feels unnatural for him to be so now. 

(Veger arrives late, does not recognize the cosmic horror as the king he willingly betrayed. He sees the dark eco freak humbled, on his knees before what he believes is a Precursor. He thinks that at last the thorn in his side will be struck down) 

And then this thing that was their king bends 

this is it! At last! Veger thinks 

- this is it. I won't fight him, Jak thinks - and the great tendrils of its wings wrap around Jak. On that too calm face, artificially peaceful, something quizzical appears in the tilt of a mouth swirling with stars. Wings draw close around them, dragging Jak up to collide with a broad chest thrumming with energy both alien and familiar. Light eco begins to seep into Jak, whispering beneath his thoughts "ours, ours, ours"

He traces a glowing hand along Jak's cheek, cocks his head and twists Jak's face back and forth with an innocently curious expression as though he's never seen him before. 

Jak grieves, believing Damas no longer knows him; wonders if this is worse than Damas being angry. Everything they've been through, every memory, just gone? As beyond reach as Jak’s own childhood? And he did this to him.

Something sparks in Damas's eyes, some thought or impulse, and he seizes Jak by the arm. The words that pour from his mouth are ancient, a dialect lost long ago to all but the monks and those who once called Sandover their home.

"Mine…? You are! You are mine.” 

It is a declaration, a discovery. A revelation. A promise. 

With a flick of his wrist, he sends Jak tumbling into the light eco vent. Light flares and Jak transforms with a choked cry. Daxter panics. Jak stands on shaky legs, wings curled tightly around himself as though he is trying to hide. Hide from his shame, hide from his friend, hide from his king. Light eco often calms him, but not this time. It is frenzied, yet it is rejoicing, singing through his veins like a homecoming and Jak is left disoriented. Dazed. 

Ours, ours, ours-! 

Unnaturally strong hands lift him up under the arms, leave his feet dangling like a child's. Jak doesn't remember ever being held like this, outside of the secondhand memories of holding his own childhood self. When he finally works up his courage and looks into the Precursor King's eyes, looking through the filter of light eco himself, there is no anger. Neither is there a lack of recognition. Damas still knows him, that's becoming obvious. Jak looks into his eyes and sees pain and acceptance and a naked, boundless joy. 

"Child," Damas echoes, proud and warm and earthshaking, "My child." 

And Jak is so stunned that he forgets in that moment that he was trying to hide. He almost forgets why he feels squirming guilt -- albeit muted -- under his skin. He knew that Damas liked him. That Damas was comfortable expressing pride in him, even in front of the whole Arena. This was something else. Something Jak had never been bold enough to hope for outside of pathetically lonely imaginings: that Damas might see him with a kind of fatherly affection. That the closest thing he had to a real father figure might see him as a son as well. 

And what Veger sees, what he thinks he sees, is the child he ripped away from Damas, the tainted heir, receiving the blessing that should have been his: to ascend to Precursorhood. Welcomed into this evolved form as though the dark eco meant nothing. 

He can't fathom it. 

His worldview is cracking at the edges. 

Oblivious to his crisis, Damas -- now closer in nature to his ancestors than he knows -- is content. This is his child. His. The eco in their blood harmonizes, dark with light, in one melody. He knows this weary warrior. He knows the blood that flows in his veins. His subject, his best warrior, his impudent rascal, his Jak: his son. 

Vaguely he knows there's something they were supposed to do, something quite important. But it doesn't seem as important as stopping time just so that he can hold his child in his arms again. 

Jak has had enough experience with the Light Form that the Precurian instincts don't overwhelm him, and he still thinks on a very human level. But Damas doesn't know how to separate human instincts from Precurian instincts. They're all one to him. 

His memories run against the swell of light and life and love and absolute eldritch otherworldliness coursing through him, too strong to control. Jak would like to get down, he really would. His wings flail in an ultimately futile bid for freedom. He has a world to save. But Damas won't let him go. He's smiling -- it's a relief, but the guilt still eats at him and he doesn't understand, what is this- does the light eco in Damas recognize his own eco? Is that why he's calling him "My own. My little one."? 

"Why aren't you angry?" Jak whispers as he tries to find somewhere for all that light eco to go. 

Tendrils of living eco brush across his cheek in a loving caress and lift his chin. Jak finds himself leaning into the touch without thinking as he watches the stars shift and swirl across Damas's face. This Light Form of Damas croons comfortingly, a subsonic rumble that is both calming and Alarming to Daxter and even Veger as they watch.

"Angry?" The word lilts oddly in the old language. "Why, little one?"

"I...I did this to you! You didn't choose this!"

"But now I am neither dead nor dying. And I know who you are." 

Jak twists up his face in confusion, refracting light across his cheeks. 

He's not afraid, but he's hesitant to ask. "Who...who am I?" 

"My son." 

[maplesyrupsainz]

˖⁺｡˚⋆˙club classics | GR63˖⁺｡˚⋆˙

pairing: george russell x singer!reader y/n (she/her)

genre: social media au

warnings: idk anything abt brat lol, addison rae cameo bc i love her, not much else

summary: in which you finally hard launch via song and the fans go wild!!! or in which two very different worlds collide...

a/n: i dnt listen to charli xcx so im srry if this is soo crap but i liked the idea so wanted to try it hope it's ok!!! obsessed w george a bit so expect more of him 👀

request!!!: helloooo could you please write a George smau where he’s dating a singer!reader who is releasing a new album idk if you listen to Charli xcx but on her new album she has a song called club classics where it says ‘I wanna dance with George’ could you write something where they reveal their relationship this way

my masterlist

fc: charli xcx

instagram ->

yourusername

liked by billieeilish, alex_albon, and others

yourusername his prettiest problem

view all comments

user1 iktrrrr

user2 HIS???

user3 does she have a bf omg

user4 nooo dont tell me i lost y/n to a man

user5 love y/n & addison friendship

user6 ur so hot y/n

user7 wait why is alex albon in the likes??

user8 wth so random

user9 who??

user10 random formula one driver lol

user11 are they dating?

user12 he has a gf alr💀

addisonraee my hottest solution

yourusername oh, kiss me already 🙆‍♀️

addisonraee you dont have to tell me twice 💋💋

user13 new music please 🙏

user14 y/n we're bored give us a summer banger

liked by yourusername

user15 her liking this.... she's cooking!

georgerussell63 posted a story

liked by lewishamilton, landonorris, and others

user16 urm??? hello

user17 what

user18 WHO?

user19 u have a gf george?

lewishamilton bring her to a race, georgie

georgerussell63 dont get too ahead 😆

landonorris congrats

landonorris cant wait to see everyone try and figure out who the hell ur girl is

georgerussell63 good luck to them

landonorris you'd be surprised actually

user20 running to twitter

user21 someone is gonna know all about this on twitter ...

twitter ->

instagram ->

georgerussell63 posted a story

liked by alex_albon, addisonraee, and others

user26 GEORGE

user27 no more

user28 WHO IS SHEEE

user29 neeeeed answers

landonorris still not met her

georgerussell63 for a reason

user30 this is so cute tbh

user31 oh how i love soft launch pics

yourusername posted a story

liked by lorde, alexademie, and others

user32 NEW MUSIC????

user33 omg it's happening

user34 this is not a drill!!!!

user35 hurry hurry we're desperate

addisonraee oh you tease!!!

yourusername oh i'll leak it to u bby 😻

addisonraee whoa. im lucky

alexademie hope im your muse

yourusername one of them perhaps 👀

alexademie player!!

user36 leak it

user37 thank god. y/n is here to save music

yourusername

liked by landonorris, addisonraee, and others

yourusername i wanna danceee

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user38 oh now this is a soft launch fr...

user39 no way...

user40 NOOO WE LOST HER

user41 MORE F1 DRIVERS IN HER LIKES???

user42 so random!!!

user43 maybe she's gonna go to a race!

user44 get back in the studio 😊😊😊

billieeilish no way, we lost the coolest girl alive to a man

liked by yourusername

user45 HAHAHA

user46 realest shit ever

user47 TWO soft launch pics omg???

user48 someone pls find out who he is.

addisonraee let's dance all niiight

yourusername 🪩🪩🪩

user49 lando liking is he shooting his shot xx

user50 no more posts unless it's an album announcement y/n!!!

liked by yourusername

user51 HER LIKING!!!

user52 bc something is coming 👀

twitter ->

instagram ->

yourusername posted stories

liked by georgerussell63, sabrinacarpenter, and others

user53 OH MY GODDDD

user54 omg i can't believe it's true

user55 mercedes omg TASTEEE

user56 so real for this

addisonraee get it girl

liked by yourusername

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twitter ->

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georgerussell63 posted a story

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user68 y/n is that u?

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user71 the twitter detectives have sussed u guys out i fear

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messages ->

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yourusername ‘club classics’ is yours right now. right now. right now. 🪩

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user72 STOP IT

user73 he can stay if it means we're gonna get new music more often 👀

liked by yourusername, georgerussell63

user74 URMMMM THE LYRICS

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user77 I WANNA DANCE WITH GEORGE??????

user78 oh she heard hard launch and said BET

addisonraee obsessed with everything you do

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user79 pop girlies support pop girlies!!!

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user85 AWWW STOP IT

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georgerussell63

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georgerussell63 i wanna dance with her too

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user87 OH MY GOD

user88 oh i will never get over this

user89 SHE'S SO GORGEOUS

user90 omg the song is insane dont remind me rn george

user91 my two worlds colliding omg this is nuts

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user93 obsessed with them so badly

landonorris i wanna dance!

yourusername COME PARTY W US LANDO!!!

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THE END 💙

[monarchberrysblog]

📄 — take a seat (wild west au)

now presenting…

𐚁⊹₊ ⋆ kinktober | day one → face sitting

🔑 outlaw! miguel o’hara x fem! reader 🔑

🌵 summary: an outlaw crashes at your B&B and makes himself welcome in your tiny business.

🌵 content warning: edging, arousal from suspension, fingering, cunnilingus (fem! receiving), a surprise at the end 😗 as I mentioned before, this isn't like my usual smut. VIEWER’S DISCRETION IS ADVISED.

🌵 word count: >1.0k words

🌵 author’s notes: this is my first fic where I bend the rules. I hope y’all enjoy it! I did a lot of research for the last segment… oh my, oh lord.

🌾 not proofread! 🌾

link to → kinktober m.list

Credit given to @bluesidez for giving me light inspo for this! (They are working on a somewhat similar AU, so please give them all the love and support!) 💛🩵

A warmness crept into your eyes, pleading for you to release the waterworks. But you kept it in, not wanting to embarrass yourself. The only things that were escaping from you were your soft moans and sighs.

The soft kisses to your lips became hungry, desperate—a man seeking hydration from being out in the desert for days without water. “Miguel—” You choke on your words and grasp his thick, wavy locks, only pushing him towards your core. He forcefully pulls away, a mischievous look on his face. The wetness coated his chin and lips while an intoxicated shade of crimson was evident in his eyes. “Use your words.” He demands. He places a heavy hand down on your abdominal area, keeping you down on the mattress. “Oh, fucking hell—” Your breath staggers like a train’s engine as you thrust your hips up to his mouth.

“That works, too.” He breathes out. His canine grazes at your clit before licking a slow strip up, keeping his eyes on you like a predator looking at his prey. But the shade of crimson in his eyes only darkened when an idea crossed his mind. He slowly pulls away, licking his lip and looking at the sight before him. “C’mon… take a seat.”

“Excuse me?” You tilted your head up from the soft pillows, the edge of the build-up of stimulation fading along with your excitement.

He removes his undershirt and sits beside you, getting comfortable against the bed. “Take a seat.” He repeats, soon pointing at his face. You exhale a sigh of disbelief while you find your words, which you have been struggling to do all night. “I’m not going to sit—”

“Take a damn seat. None of that hovering bullshit.” He snaps, his hand gesturing you to come closer. You did as he demanded, straddling his face but not wholly putting your weight down.

His hands guide you up to your hips and waist and yank you down to his mouth immediately.

Instead of the soft kisses he exchanged, his lips and tongue moved fervor, savoring you as if you were his favorite meal. “Give me a moment…!” Your hand reaches down to yank Miguel’s hair to pull him away. He only moved closer, not giving you a breathing chance to recuperate.

You collapse onto the flimsy headboard, resting your forehead against its top. The soft kitten licks soothed your fluttering core, his tongue lingering on your clit.

You sighed contently and settled down. But after a few soft sighs and breaths, a soft push against your entrance staggered your breathing. Miguel’s finger gently nudged into your fluttering core, slowly sliding in. “There we go…” The wet gushing sound echoed throughout the space, voiding the space of silence. A loud, obnoxious moan escaped from the back of your throat, a loud, high-pitched sound you could have never imagined that you could conjure up. You roll the curb of your forehead against the headboard and move against his fingers, running away from them.

“No, no…” He cooes to you, pushing in a second finger. “Don’t run away from me now.” Miguel’s voice is muffled as he dives into another kiss, still making his fingers into your greedy entrance. His fingers curl slightly, pushing down on your g-spot. The slow, warm build-up formed in your lower stomach, and it was only a sensation that you were familiar with. A sensation that told you to get off.

“Wait! Stop! I need to go!” Your eyes dart down to Miguel, but he ignores your pleas. “You’re doing fine, sweetie.” His words are muffled, continuing his feast in between your legs. “I think not, I’m about to—” It was too late. A warm stream leaked out with the bubbling sensation, soaking the pillows and Miguel. You exhaled a sigh of relief, no longer feeling the bubbling sensation in your lower stomach.

The movements within a few seconds flashed as you were now laying on your back on the bed and feeling a cold barrel against your puffy clit. “Huh…?” You attempt to peek down before his hand meets with your neck and pins you down onto the bed. “Stay still.” He commands, moving the barrel up and down the bundles of nerves. “Take it easy…” He whispers before the said cold barrel slips inside with ease. You pursed your lips and inhaled sharply. “Don’t worry, I'm not gonna pull the trigger.”

Your inhale of air came to a seize. When did he grab the colt?

“Unless you want me to.”

“No…” You choke out. The engraved patterns on the barrel rubbed against your clit slowly, as if the bundles of nerves traced the design and wanted to memorize the texture. “Good girl.” the once cold colt mellowed out with your warmth, fogging the barrel. The thrusting of the weapon became futile, becoming more of an impossible task. “You’re close, aren't you?” He darkly chuckles as he continues with the same steady motion before you soak the colt, adding a coat of shine to the weapon. “No…” You feign confidence but fail the moment you kegal onto the barrel and finish, coating the silvery gun with a shimmer.

He pulls out and leans down, giving your entrance a deserving kiss before towering over you and rewarding you with a soft kiss. “You did so good.” He whispers, his voice sending goosebumps down your spine. He collapses next to you and pulls you close, rubbing a gentle hand down your spine. “You did good.”

tag list: (if you like to be tagged please fill out the google form on my pinned post)

@hyjionie @zaunsin

[aixeko]

⋆ “ SAVE A HORSE, RIDE A COWBOY ” ⋆

| Starring | Cowboy!Arlecchino x Aristocrat!Reader

| Setting | Wild west AU

| Scenario |  [ DRABBLE ] SMUT! Porn no plot. Arle has a cock and tongue piercing. Brat reader and brat tamer Arle. Power dynamic. Semi-public sex + Nearly getting caught. ROUGH sex. Penetration. Degradation. This is just filthy asf. Fully consensual of course. AFAB reader + Usage of feminine pet names and pronouns. OOC Arle? Idk.

► RADIO CHANNEL [Author note]

× First time ever writing smut uhhh yeah, I’m so sorry this is so bad.. 2/4 drabble for Arle birthday. × I had to cut it short too due to having a busy schedule, maybe if this get enough attention then I can maybe expand on the ideas I had and have for it 😭

[ Word count: 1730 ] | Art credit: Stumkek_pics / 37396536718l on Twitter

The saloon storeroom erupts in chaos as Arlecchino slams you against its wooden wall, causing barrels to scatter across the floor in place of your body. Sweat rolls down your temple, followed by disorientation and breathlessness at the harsh act. Compared to her usual cool composure, this intense change in mannerism makes the very essence of your soul feel as though it has been ripped apart and exposed just for her predatory gaze to ravish in.

With a single, generously tattooed colossal hand, she grips both of your wrists, immobilizing them completely above your head. Helpless now, you are at her absolute wildest mercy, unable to move or resist the overwhelming force she exhibits.

Despite the large ferocity of power competency between the two of you, every ounce of your muscles can't help but race with oppressive lust behind tinted fears. Your breathing heightens as your eyes come within the proximity of hers; never have you seen eyes so infuriated with lecherousness. Just the mere sight of its savage sexual desire for you is enough to get your undergarments shamefully wet.

"Seducing me openly, then daring to snatch and wear my hat in the public eye, did you expect no repercussions?" Arlecchino leaned in dangerously close, her hot breath brushing against your ear as she continued. "How formalities work with your people is none of my business to pry into, but for a woman of nobility, especially a lady of your standing? Your etiquette is lacking greatly, sweetheart."

Somewhere in your dazedness, you still find enough courage to provoke the cowboy even further.

"For a cowboy hired to protect me, you are facile to prick."

The ghastly remark is pathetically laughable but unfazed; Arlecchino chooses to indulge in this little charade of yours, her confidence unshaken by your feeble act. With a free hand, she maneuvers her hand under your knee, lifting it up and wrapping it around her waist. Now, in between your legs, she presses her growing bulge against you, making sure to roll her hip for you to feel the full extent of it. At the feeling of the enormous monster, you cannot help but whimper.

"Talk about facile; look at yourself, princess. I barely touched you, and you're already this filthy for me. Not as almighty as you ought to be. Pathetic, aren't you, love?"

You turn away, eyes shutting; a hiss of pleasure escapes at the feeling of her against your throbbing, clothed clitoral. Releasing your knee, Arlecchino's hand finds your cheek, redirecting your face to meet hers once more.

"Look at me, darling."

Timidly, your eyelids lift. For a moment, you can see her hardened gaze soften ever so slightly.

"Safeword," Arlecchino commands, brooking no room for arguments.

The edge of your lip twitches upward in a smirk; in spite of her rough exterior, the cowboy's hidden tender nature still slips through in its own ways. You know she's itching to completely fuck you over, and yet the woman still has the attentiveness for your comfort.

"Such a puppy... Let's see—crimson eyes for stop."

An amused scoff releases from Arlecchino's lips; to dare act so cocky as to even insult her by calling her 'puppy' even with the clear disadvantage is praisable.

Arlecchino let go of your hands, which effectively left you in a confused state. You fully expected her to go rough with you again on the spot. You watched her intently, anxious for her next move. She inched away slightly and unbuckled her belt, her eyes trained on you as she did so.

"Hands out, doll."

The moment your hands are bound, the aggressiveness once present in the air returns in full force, leaving no room for adjustment. Her lips crash into yours, her pierced tongue darting between them in frantic motion, as if she has been forced into famishment for centuries. You gasp, unwittingly granting her entry with ease. The coldness of the metal-tipped tongue invading your warm mouth has your eyes rolling back in hungry pleasure. Meanwhile, her hands struggle in a battle against her zipper, showing how hastily she is moving.

"Hugh... wait—urgh," you slurred, struggling to speak with the little amount of room she was giving you. "Let..me help."

Fortunately, she caught your grasp amidst the mess of arousal, easing slightly away from you. You take rapid breaths, inhaling and exhaling the air that has been sucked lifelessly out of you by Arlecchino. Once you deem that your consciousness is stable enough, you slowly lower yourself to your knees. Your eyes gaze up at her, your tongue darting out as your mouth makes its way to her zipper. With your teeth, you pull it down, revealing the wet patch of her boxers. Arlecchino groans when your tongue makes contact with it, licking and sucking the outline. Your skillful navigation is enough to get her cock even harder and throbbing controllably; it is practically begging her to release it from confinement.

Arlecchino prides herself on being composed when faced with any situation, but something about you—something about the way your tongue dances against her rock-hard cock—the image of you sucking it and being filled with it has her imagination going beyond heaven's forgiveness.

She grips a handful of your hair and uses it to shove you down to the cold floor. Any clothing blocking her from your entrance is torn apart, leaving your bottom half completely bare for her to absolutely destroy and consume. Arlecchino pulls out her enormous size of a dick, instantly fisting it with a gratified exhale.

You stare in a brazen manner, drooling at the bulk leaking pre-cum and the mere thought of it trying to fit inside your smaller frame; no more do you care for your virtually nonexistent dignity. Arlecchino groans at your expression, fisting herself faster and making her way in between you. God, why does a rich brat like you have to be such a fucking sight to marvel at?

"What a slut," Arlecchino mumbles, her once-controlled speech, and movement losing to the affray of lust.

Her patience runs thin and evaporates into nothingness. In one swift motion, she bends your legs beside your head, folding you into a piledriver position as her arousal peaks at its fullness. Without warning, she thrusts forcefully, penetrating you with a single, ravenous stroke.

Your teeth sink into the flesh of your hand, stifling a loud moan. Tears well up and cascade as Arlecchino's relentless pounding intensifies without a sign of stopping. She bends you further, her pulsating member probing ever deeper. Your body shakes violently, overwhelmed by the onslaught of sensations. Your eyes find home at the back of your head in the intertwining of pleasure and pain, every thrust overstimulating your senses and sending shockwaves through the very core of your soul.

Arlecchino grumbled out incoherent words of satisfaction: The tightness of your gummy wall feels so goddamn good. How can she not lose herself in it?

Footsteps echo throughout the hallway of the saloon storeroom, shattering your erotic, fervent trance. Without delay, Arlecchino swiftly lifts you up, her member still heavily gaping at you all the while, as she hides both of you behind stacked barrels.

Your hearts race at the prospect of getting caught with her ball deep in you, in an aroused or frightened way you couldn't place your finger on it.

"Say, have you seen Father at all today?" A familiar young adult male voice comes through, one that you remember goes by the name of 'Lyney,' and decrypting from his questioning tone, he isn't alone.

"Mn... no, but... I think I saw her with that aristocrat earlier," another young, softer male voice answered the previous one's question.

Your breath hitches as you feel Arlecchino begin steadily dicking you again, building up the lost momentum without care. Arching upward, you clutch the back of Arlecchino's shirt, all the while biting into her neck to muffle the sound of your moans.

If at any given moment the boys decided to turn their backs, this little affair of yours would be easily exposed to their unfortunate sighting.

But you can't; you're so close—so, so close. You feel heaven in your eyes and your body as your head clouds with nothing more than blank whiteness.

Between gasps of inaudible, long, low sounds of sexual pleasure, you babble on about the closeness of your ecstasy. "I'm almost there," you breathe, her name half-forming: "Arle—"

Arlecchino suddenly withdraws, leaving only her tip to linger within you, tantalizing you by prolonging your climax. Then a formidable thrust from her hip surges forward. She plunges deep, her cock once more ball-deep, filling you completely. Her aim is precise and calculated because it strikes exactly at your g-spot, inflaming your core. With that perfect amount of force, your pent-up frustration unleashes in a paradisiacal orgasm.

"Huh, what is that sound?" Lyney's voice once again vibrated through the room.

Arlecchino seems indifferent to the fact that she could be caught fucking a noblewoman by her children. You share none of her collectiveness, cursing in panic after you calmed down slightly from your climax.

A young adult woman's call sounds through the corridor. "Lyney, Freminet? Where are you guys?" The boys' ears perk up, drawn to her searching voice. Their focus shifts from the strange sound that they heard to her distant one.

"In the storeroom! We're coming, Lynette!"

Hearing the sound of their retreating footsteps, you let out a breath of relief, the tension in your body loosing, or at least the most it can, before remembering that Arlecchino is still yet to finish her business with you.

Arlecchino forces you to stand upright; you may have reached your peak, but she has yet to have her ejaculation, and she is clearly frustrated, as evidenced by the way her eyebrows are furrowed, her darkened eyes, and the way her member is still pulsing with unsatisfied urgency. You brace yourself, knowing her restraint won't last long against the mounting pressure of her impending release.

"Lift your hip for me, sugar."

How you will cover up your messy appearance and the bruises and love marks she is going to leave on you is a problem for your future self to suffer through because right now the world is nothing more than a soundless void, and the only thing that matters right now is the way she feels around you.

[scary-grace]

blind date (shigaraki x reader)

After endless failed attempts to help Tomura up his game, his friends have settled on their last resort: A blind date. Even before you show up, it's not going well. No quirks AU, 2k words.

this was originally in the x reader lovers community, but I figured I'd release it into the wild as well!

Part 1 Part 2

Part 1

Tomura gets being a little late. “A little late” is practically his middle name. He waits until the last minute to do almost everything, and that means any complications mean he’s running behind. Hypocrisy pisses him off so much that he tries to avoid it all costs, so that means he has to put up with it without bitching when somebody else is a little late, too.

Except half an hour isn’t a just a little late for anything, let alone a blind date Tomura didn’t want to go on in the first place. He’s been waiting outside the bar you were supposed to meet at for half an hour, and he’s pissed.

“That’s it,” he says after the eighteenth time a woman his age has walked past and hasn’t been you, whatever the hell you look like. “I’m out of here.”

“Just a little longer, honey,” Magne says. She’s smiling, but she’s also got her arm around Tomura’s shoulders, and if she squeezes any harder, Tomura’s going to pop like a balloon. “She’ll be here.”

“No, she won’t.” Tomura crosses his arms over his chest, tucking his hands in so nothing will bite them. They’re on the waterfront, in the summer, and there are insects everywhere. Whose dumb idea was this? “You showed her a photo of me and she changed her mind.”

“It’s a blind date,” Magne says. Like Tomura’s supposed to know what that means. “She doesn’t know what you look like, either. That’s why you have to stay right here and keep wearing that baseball hat. Otherwise she won’t know it’s you.”

Tomura hates the hat. Right now he hates everything. “So she got here on time, saw me, and left. Can I go?”

Magne shakes her head. “You promised you’d try.”

“I showed up. I waited for fucking half an hour. I’ve tried.” Tomura finally shoves Magne’s arm off his shoulders. “I’m done.”

Tomura wishes he could say he didn’t know how he got here, except he does. One of his friends is getting married, and there’s supposed to be a wild bachelor weekend in Vegas, one last blast of stupid before settling down. Most of the groomsmen are planning to hook up with as many people as possible, and that’s where the problems start. According to his friends, Tomura has no game. Zero game. Negative one hundred game. If he was rolling for his game stat, it would be a critical failure – and none of his friends want to babysit him when they could be getting laid.

Tomura wouldn’t want to babysit when he could be getting laid, either. His solution was to skip the bachelor weekend and just show up for the wedding in his stupid rented suit. But apparently his friends really want him to come to the party, and they decided that what he needed was to get some practice in before the trip. Which means that for the last month, Tomura’s spent every Friday night and weekend getting dragged through his own personal hell.

They made him try dating apps, which were a disaster, even though Tomura let Toga set up his profile and make the first move. Then they tried traditional online dating, which also sucked, because Tomura’s too picky and other people have standards. Hanging out in bars and clubs worked exactly how it’s always worked – it doesn’t – and when Dabi pulled out the big guns and dragged Tomura to the sex club where he met his fiancé, the only people who talked to Tomura were guys. Tomura thought that was sort of a good sign, even though he’s not into men, until he remembered that guys will fuck anything with a hole in it. He’s not high on himself on his best day, but that was a really shitty night.

He thought they were going to quit after that, but his friends had one last ace up their sleeve – a blind date, Magne’s idea, which Toga enthusiastically signed off on when she saw a picture of the woman Magne wanted to set Tomura up with. Toga’s type and Tomura’s type line up, sort of, and Spinner giving the photo two thumbs way up sealed the deal.

It’s not like Tomura was hopeful or anything. He just wanted to get his friends off his back. Still, rejection sucks, and ghosting sucks worse. He’d rather have you show up and tell him to his face that you weren’t interested than stand him up.

Magne collars Tomura again, but her phone starts ringing at the same time, Toga’s contact info popping up. “Don’t go anywhere,” she warns Tomura as she raises the phone to her ear. “We’re here. She’s not here yet. Can you tell him –”

Tomura ducks out from under her arm and books it into the crowd of people on the waterfront, figuring he can make it to the metro stop before Magne figures out which way he’s going. But even that can’t go his way today, because he runs into somebody who’s moving at warp speed in the opposite direction, colliding at the shoulder hard enough to make him stagger. Tomura’s not confrontational, but it’s the wrong fucking day. “Can you watch where you’re going? It’s not like you matter to whoever you’re going to –”

“Are you Tomura?”

Tomura’s heart lurches. He stares hard at you as you right yourself, picking up the backpack you dropped in the collision. There’s no way this is happening. There’s no universe in which his blind date would be someone like you.

He can see right away why Toga and Spinner approved of you, but he thought you’d be someone in his league, not somebody who’s several kilometers above it. Maybe Tomura’s too excited that you actually showed up to evaluate what you actually look like. He looks away, then looks back. Nope – you’re still pretty, even though your face is flushed and you’re breathing hard like you’ve just been running. Did you run here to meet him? Only one way to find out. “I’m Tomura.”

“I’m so sorry,” you say. “My boss held me back at work, and I missed my train –”

You’re wearing some kind of work uniform. Scrubs, maybe. Are you a nurse? “And then I couldn’t decide whether to wait for another train or just run, so I ran – but I don’t really run, so it took even longer –”

Tomura doesn’t run, either. When he was doing the stupid online dating thing, he sorted out everybody who said more than one sentence about working out. You pause to suck down a breath, then keep talking. “I know everything I just said sounds like an excuse, and I know you’re leaving,” you say, “but I was hoping I could catch you so I could say I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to stand you up. I get it if you want to call it off.”

Before Tomura can answer or even think about what he’s going to say, Magne bursts out of the crowd. “I told you not to run off,” she scolds, collaring Tomura again. “If you don’t stay put, there’s no way she’s going to – oh! You’re here!”

You nod. Magne looks you up and down. “I told you to dress cute,” she scolds. “And to get here on time. I practically had to chain him to a streetlight so he wouldn’t escape.”

“I’m sorry,” you say. “My boss –”

“Of course,” Magne says, scowling. “He’s never met a good time he doesn’t want to ruin.”

Magne knows who your boss is? “How do you to know each other?”

“She’s a pharmacy tech at the place I go to pick up my E,” Magne says. “She’s the only one who works there who isn’t an asshole, and her boss is the biggest asshole of them all. I only go in there when she’s on and he’s off. But let me introduce you the right way. Shigaraki, this is – ”

Tomura misses your name the first time Magne says it, catches it the second time, but it barely registers except as something he probably shouldn’t forget. You’re pretty. You’re not an asshole, or at least you’re the same kind of asshole as Magne and everybody else Magne’s friends with, including Tomura. Your boss is the wrong kind of asshole, which means you probably didn’t blow Tomura off on purpose. And you ran here so you could meet him even when you knew you were really late. You must have really wanted to meet Tomura. What did Magne tell you about him?

Tomura can ask you about that later. “So?” Magne is saying expectantly. “Can I leave you two alone, or are you going to run away again?”

“No,” Tomura says. “You can go.”

You look surprised. “Um –”

“Now.”

Magne cackles. She snatches the hat off Tomura’s head, ruffles his hair, and slaps him on the back hard enough that he staggers. “Have fun! I want all the details later!”

“Sure,” you say, bewildered, as she kisses you on the cheek. Tomura’s going to have to talk to you about that – any details you share with Magne will be fair game for the rest of Tomura’s friends, and he’s not sure how much he wants them to know. “Um, bye.”

Magne waves and vanishes into the crowd. Now it’s just you and Tomura standing on the sidewalk. You shuffle off to one side, out of the way, and Tomura follows you. “Are you sure you still want to do this?” you ask once you’re both leaning against the railing. “I get it if you’re not in the mood. When I’ve gotten stood up, I haven’t wanted to –”

“You’ve never been stood up in your life,” Tomura says, and your expression changes from confused to offended. “Look at you.”

You look down at yourself, then back up at him. “What does that mean?”

“I didn’t know anything about you and I got here on time. If I knew what you looked like beforehand I’d have been two hours early.” It sounded like a compliment in Tomura’s head, but he can’t tell if you’re taking it that way. “People like you don’t get stood up for dates.”

“I wish that were true,” you say. You look away. “I know how it feels. I get it if you don’t want to go out anymore.”

Tomura pretends he’s thinking about it. “How far did you run to get here?”

“Sixteen blocks.”

“You ran sixteen blocks to meet me. That cancels out being late,” Tomura says. You look up, surprised for a second or two before the relief kicks in. “I still want to go out.”

“Me, too,” you say. You smile at him. Women don’t usually smile at Tomura. People don’t usually smile at Tomura. He doesn’t know what to do with it. “Thanks, Tomura. For giving me a chance.”

“Yeah,” Tomura says. “What do we do now?”

“I don’t really know,” you admit. “It’s been a while since I went on a date.”

“Same,” Tomura says. ‘Never’ counts as a while in his book. “I don’t know – grab drinks or something?”

You nod. “Can we find somewhere to sit down for a second first? I don’t usually run that much, and I don’t want to pass out on you.”

“You can pass out on me if you want,” Tomura says. You blink. Tomura facepalms even though you’re looking right at him. “There are benches back there.”

The crowd on the sidewalk is only getting denser. Tomura doesn’t want to get separated from you, so he tells you to hold onto the back of his shirt. You grab his hand instead, and you’re still holding it when the two of you find a place to sit down. Still holding it once you’re both settled, searching for something to talk about. Tomura’s not optimistic about this. You’re too good to be true – the kind of woman who’d run sixteen blocks to meet him and hold his hand is a kind of woman who doesn’t exist. Even so, it’s – nice. Tomura laces his fingers with yours and decides to enjoy it while it lasts.

[onlyangel4]

should've said no. ln4. ls2. smau.

cheater lando norris x actress!reader. logan sargeant x actress!reader.

synopsis: lando should have always known that cheating on you in a workplace of people that adore you was a terrible idea.

author's note: welcome to the first installment of the taylor swift inspired series. i hope you enjoy this one! for context reader and lando had been dating for six months. reader is australian.

faceclaim: mia healey

taylor swift series masterlist.

y/ninsta posted a story

written: having a self care day to distract myself from not being at the australian grand prix (my home race) because i am so incredibly ill and can hardly move. good luck my love.

y/ninsta posted a story tagging landonorris

written: p3 baby !!!!

y/ninsta posted a story

written: i'm sick and sad but at least i have this shirt

y/ninsta posted a story

written: i just got sent a "i'm sorry you're sick and i'm sorry your boyfriend cheated on you" care package. not how i imagined my day was gonna go.

y/ninsta posted a story tagging lilyzneimer

written: i'm finally over the flu and able to go out with lily while she is in aus !

logansargeant replied to your story: are you at all free to hangout before i go to japan, missed you !

y/ninsta: tomorrow good?

logansargeant: tomorrow's perfect i'll pick you up

y/ninsta posted a story

written: finally back on the waves

logansargeant posted a story

written: when in aus

y/ninsta

liked by eranajames, lilynziemer, sarahpidgeon and 986,784 others

y/ninsta: i highly suggest going away to new zeleand for four months to film the best show ever as soon as you get cheated on. in all seriousness we just finished filming my new project the wilds and i am so excited for you guys to get to see me in my favourite project of my career. i had the best time on set even if i did have to be in freezing water for hours at a time. it was all fun and games. see you guys in december for when it releases.

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eranajames: had the best time filming with you my love

y/ninsta: it was the best

lilynziemer: so glad you are back in aus for summer break

y/ninsta: can't wait to see you when you and osc visit

user1: so sad i have to wait until december to watch mother

logansargeant

liked by oscarpiastri, y/ninsta, danielricciardo and 543,859 others

logansargeant: the best summer break ever

view all 8,379 comments

oscarpiastri: you spending summer break in australia was not what i expected

logansargeant: what can i say, i just can't keep away

user2: so logan spent his summer break in australia with a blonde. we all know what australian blonde i think it is

user3: lando really fucking fumbled if that is who i think it is

user4: if that is y/n you are now officially the hottest couple in f1

y/ninsta posted a story

written: he has a plane to catch but he won't put me down

y/nupdates posted a story

written: y/n and logan have arrived to the wilds premiere and they are officially a couple !!!

logansargeant

liked by y/ninsta, oscarpiastri, lilyzniemer and 537,899 others

tagged: y/ninsta

logansargeant: the past five months with you have been the best five months ever. i love you so much and i am in awe of your talent. everyone go stream the wilds!

view all 15,473 comments

y/ninsta: i love you so much, i can't wait to move america with you and start this indycar journey with you

logansargeant: so excited for our new chapter

oscarpiastri: me and lily should get points for getting you to both realise you liked each other

logansargeant: well thank you mate

user5: the funniest thing about all this is y/n is so happy in a new relationship and new chapter of her life and lando is still single after that model turned out to just be a fuck, everything worked out in y/n's favour

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[ktownshizzle]

Wild & Free | Part 2 of 2

Pairing: Min Yoongi x female reader

Summary: Everybody says they want to marry Min Yoongi. But what if he only wants to say 'yes' to you.

Alternatively: While on the last leg of their PTD tour, Yoongi discovers there was such a thing as drive-thru weddings in Las Vegas - spontaneous, wild, exciting - something his pretty little brain can't seem to process having lived the last decade of his life planned to perfection by his management team, which includes you. When he goes down a rabbit hole of Youtube videos about The Little White Wedding Chapel (Omo! Michael Jordan got married there!), he starts getting all sorts of ideas - all of it starring him and you.

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Smut, Childhood friends to lovers, Idol!au, Coworkers to lovers (reader is a HYBE employee)

Warnings: Please read part 1 for this to make sense. We start with oral (f. receiving) bec this is Yoongi, sex of course (v. cute and loving, unprotected- u wrap it up tho), self-indulgent shit if ima be honest, more cursing lol, reader is a yapper, couple of idiots but not for long, spit kink, reader is an aspiring brat, overuse of the term ‘baby’, tiny Beauty and the Beast reference if you catch it (tell me if you do!), possible inaccuracies about Las Vegas (read full statement fr part 1)

Word Count: 11k (approx. 45 mins to read)

Posting date: September 27, 2024

Dividers: @/saradika-graphics

Part One | Part Two | Masterlist

“Mm, there,” you mewl mindlessly, tugging his copper hair when his tongue hits. the. spot. “Shit, that’s IT.”

How you went from almost throwing him out of your room to him throwing you on the bed is a blur at this point. The moment your lips touched it was like he took over all your faculties. Brain emptied, pussy surrendered in less than a minute. 

The way you are stripped of every inch of your clothing and he still has everything on gives you some false sense of power. But you know he is the one in-charge and dear God you are willing to submit.

Yoongi groans after a particularly harsh pull, and you realize belatedly how his scalp must be burning.

“Sorry,” you release his poor strands, but a quick hand grips your wrist.

 “I don’t give a fuck–,” he says sternly, intense eyes looking up at you for a millisecond before diving back in like a man who has not had a proper meal in a year.

As if you’re not sufficiently down bad for him, you discover his dominating side and you are now an absolute wreck.

Eyes squeezed shut, your hands move to grip the sheets to tether you into this world as his hot tongue licks against your folds before swirling on the nub that has your soul ascending to another plane. Pinpricks of pleasure shoot from your core towards the tips of your limbs, every fiber of your being burning, coming alive.

But, he suddenly stops, and you can’t help the tiny whimper that immediately spills from your lips, panicked eyes going down to where he was.

His lips curl into a devilish smirk, before he pushes two fingers inside your entrance and the most obscene moan escapes your throat. Embarrassed, you pull your lips inward to muffle any sound you're bound to make.

He extracts his fingers from your hole and you are horrified at how empty you suddenly feel. 

Shit, he looks mad. Were you too loud?

His smeared hand appears by the side of your face, pressing down the mattress to support his weight. The chains on his neck that hovers over your flushed face renders you speechless. You may have seen this in your mind’s eye, but it cannot compare to the real thing.

You see the thin sheen of sweat on his forehead as he lifts a brow and speaks in a voice too calm for a threat, “If you want to cum on my tongue, you better let me hear you.”

“Okay,” you breathe out quickly, desperate, needy.

Looking pleased, he slinks back down, licking the valley of your breasts, kissing your knee, the inner part of your thigh, towards your mound.

He gingerly spreads your folds, purses his lips, then spits—”fuck!”—before slurping the juices from your cunt, creating a lewd melody with your helpless moans.

His lithe fingers start to move in and out of your slick walls in a steady rhythm that has your body tensing up like you’ve never had a proper orgasm.

A warm hand glides up your stomach towards the flesh of your breast, massaging it softly. His calloused thumb swipes over your nipple once, twice, thrice in a dizzying dance before twisting it, synching each roll with a lap of his tongue on your clit.

Goddamn, how did he get so good with that–wait you don’t want to know. You focus on his ministrations, his every move creating tidal waves of pleasure. His tongue moving in figure eights. Two fingers, curling slightly as it slides in and out. Your nipples, pinched and rolled expertly. Sanity, ebbing slowly away…

“Don’t stop,” you beg pathetically. “Shit, Yoongi, please…”

The devil laughs against your pussy, puffs of breath touching your wetness. For a second you thought he might edge you and you are so not a fan of that. But as always, Yoongi knows you, flaws and all. Patience was not your strong suit. And he is never cruel and 

“Fuck—I’m gonna cum.”

“Give it to me.”

He keeps playing your body like a guitar, strings plucked and pulled taut, rapidly, repeatedly, coaxing out a melody from you that can rival any track he has ever laid down in Genius Lab. 

“Oh… oh… Yoongi… Yoon-“

Body vibrating, hips bucking to meet his every hard thrust, you chant his name over and over in broken cries as white hot pleasure finally crashes through you, leaving you shattered in its wake.

Damn. What was that?

Easily the best orgasm you’ve had in a while and you were about to tell him exactly that. But he emerges from the depths of your core like a fuckin’ devil with the biggest shit-eating grin as he wipes his glistening chin with the back of his hand, and you think—nope, he doesn’t need a big head.

If it were any other man you might not have grasped the pillow above your head to hit him square in the face.

“Don’t look so smug,” you chide, but he just laughs. That adorable shoulders-bobbing soundless chuckle he does.

He lays beside you on the bed, hands behind his head, a cheeky grin plastered across his face as he licks his lips contentedly.

If you only knew the relief that is flooding his own senses at that moment. If you only knew that he took it personally, you chose that younger, more muscly dude to take home for the night. What, like he can’t get you there? Fuck that. He felt so vindicated.

Wordlessly, he guides you towards his body, draping the sheets over your bottom halves. You nestle your cheek against his chest, head tilted up slightly to admire the silver on his neck.

You can almost see the Yoongi you know coming back and decide you wanna bring him down a peg. Just for shits.

“So that’s what that tongue technology does, huh?“ you tease. “Took me to Hong Kong like you—”

“Aishhh! Hajimaaaa!” Your cheeks are suddenly smushed and he smothers your lips with tiny pecks, visibly flustered by his lyrics being repeated to him. It escalates into a flurry of lazy tickles and giggles until it naturally dissolves into lazy cuddles and watery smiles.

You feared this would be awkward, but it actually feels so… natural.  Even as you both settle in your own sides, letting thoughts consume you after such a huge leap in your friendship, a comfortable silence takes over that you think he might even be asleep. 

But then you feel his soft, slightly clammy hand squeezing your arm, pulling you back into the moment. “You good?” He asks, and you know there are layers to his question that you have yet to unravel. That it’s not just about how you are feeling physically, but everything: the shift in your relationship, this open door to some place new.

“Never better,” you say for now, pushing your body up slightly, so you can kiss his neck, dropping your voice to what you hope is a seductive purr. “I was thinking… Maybe I can return the favor?”

His eyes widen a fraction, but he shakes his head. “S’ cool, I want this to be about you.”

“So corny,” you deflate, moving to rest your head on your own pillow in protest.

“For real. I wanted to make you feel good. Least I can do for ruining your night.”

“But you didn’t--”

Your protest trails off as he lowers his head to kiss you again. Unable to help yourself, you lick against his mouth, your taste on his tongue still palpable, and the coals in your core start to ignite anew.

“Is this how you’ll get me to shut up from now on?” you mumble against his soft lips, swinging your legs over his hip.

“I think it’s working.”

“Sure is.”

“We don’t have to rush,” he reminds you after a beat, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear, not quite meeting your eyes. Because what you didn’t know was what a liar he was. If you had any idea about all the unhinged thoughts brewing in his brain, like how perfect you would look with your mascara smeared and his cock pulsing inside your mouth, or like how he would love to take you to that wedding chapel and marry the shit outta you right now. Literal bonkers.

“But I want to,” you whine pathetically, wandering hands sliding down to the waistband of his boxers. “I want to taste your...”

Your phone rings from a distance, but you see Sejin’s face lighting up the screen.

“Dick.”

“That’s your boss.”

“And that’s what he is right now. It’s almost 3 a.m.”

You begrudgingly walk towards the desk where your phone was, rubbing your arms from the chill of the AC. 

You pick up one of your stray sweaters draped over a chair, slipping it on before you swipe to answer the call. “Sejin-ssi?”

Maybe it was late, or maybe your brain dumbed down significantly after that amazing release, but Sejin’s litany was dragging on and you just hope you pick up the key stuff. “director called… need to reshoot early tomorrow… emailed you the details… Yoongi told you what happened right? … make sure he gets the message?”

“Okay.”

“Thanks.”

You check Sejin’s email and texts and give Yoongi the rundown (basically he only has three hours to sleep before the early call time at the same penthouse suite), plugging your phone back in the charger afterwards. You stop by the bath and tug a fresh pair of panties on before returning to the bedroom.

His eyes are like little crescents as you pad over, very sleepy, very cutesy, before it zeroes in on the letters on your jumper. FG, it reads.

“Thief,” he says, pulling you back into bed, letting your head rest atop his arm to make you his little spoon–or so you thought, before he places your head in a mock headlock. “How many of my shirts have you stolen, huh?”

“This year, or?”

He lets go of his grip on your head, squeezing your waist playfully and you giggle.

“I was looking forward to staying here with you,” he mumbles, burying his face against your hair.

“Something about one of the cameras being kicked by somebody and files got corrupted. Know anything about it?”

“Hmm.” 

And you suddenly remember the commotion between him and Jin yesterday while Jake was inviting you to go out. Strangely, it’s starting to make sense, but there was something more important to be addressed.

“Yoongi,” you call over your shoulder, and he doesn’t reply so you try to peel his arm from you only to be met by a groan. “We owe Jake an apology. You know that wasn’t cool, right?”

“I know,” he croaks, letting out a deep sigh. “I’ll talk to him, I promise.”

“Thank you, baby,” you mutter sleepily, the yawn leaving your mouth halting mid-way as you clock yourself for the term of endearment that just casually slipped out. Yoongi hums in approval, snuggling even closer, and you decide you might just keep it.

Your first sort-of morning after, you didn’t think you’d wake up alone, but Yoongi had to leave due to the early call time. It was hazy how he left hours ago, but you can recall a peck gingerly placed on your forehead before he extracted the arm that was resting across your stomach and took all the warmth you needed with him. You can vaguely recall his gravelly tone as he places the duvet over your body, none of his words registering in your half-awake state.

You move through your morning on autopilot, going through the motions without much thought. But when you spot Yoongi’s jacket draped over the couch, your mind starts to drift. The details of last night come flooding back—every touch, every word—and before you know it, you’re smiling to yourself as you grab your bag from the same spot. 

But then, like clockwork, anxiety creeps in, that old familiar weight settling in your chest. Your steps falter, and as you head for the door, all you can think is: Fuck. What if everything he said, everything he did, was just in the heat of the moment? What if it didn’t mean a damn thing?

The thought tightens around you, and the idea of facing that reality feels like too much to bear. You need to know that you’re on the same page. Stat.

The moment you enter the set, it seems that fate has sent you a sign on what needed to be dealt with first.

You watch as Jake sets up his camera equipment, adjusting lenses and fiddling with the lights. Tapping his shoulder, you clear your throat and offer a shy smile.

“Hi,” he says simply, zipping up one of the camera bags before turning his full attention to you.

“I’m sorry for what happened,” you say, your voice earnest.

His shoulders lift tentatively. “It’s not ideal. But I get it. Jimin told me.” 

You raise an eyebrow, a bit taken aback. “Jimin?”

“Yeah,” Jake says, gripping one of the tripods. “He was outside when Yoongi threw me out.”

Oh. Why was he even there? You sigh, adjusting the bag on your shoulder, the mysteries of the situation still weighing on you. “Honestly, I didn’t know he was gonna do that. Things are a bit complicated I guess.”

Jake chuckles, shaking his head as he finishes with the equipment. “Funny, that’s what he said when he apologized earlier.”

“Ah. Glad he talked to you,” you respond, feeling a little relieved that Yoongi did what he promised.

Jake looks at you, his eyes twinkling with a mix of curiosity and sincerity. “Noona, can I tell you what I told him, too?”

You nod, curious. “Okay?”

Jake leans against the equipment cart, his tone light but direct. “Just uncomplicate it.”

He gives you a cheeky grin, adding, “Now this I didn’t tell him, because I like my job and like living. But if it doesn’t work out with him, maybe I could get a chance to take you out on a date for real?”

Your mouth parts disbelievingly and he winks before wheeling the cart away, shaking his head in amusement. 

Face still warm from Jake’s shameless flirt, you see Yoongi’s bright orange hair before you even see the rest of him and this sobers you right up. Across the room, he was chatting with Namjoon about something seemingly important. The medium gray suit he was wearing is really doing things to you that you cannot explain. He looks like a proper groom, the fuck?! You look away before anybody sees you drooling over your… best friend? boyfriend? one night stand? Ugh! Future husband? Shit?!

Thankfully, one of the senior PAs proffers an iced coffee to you before your brain overheats.

“Yoongi-ssi says to give this to you,” he says curtly and walks away.

The drink was cold, but the warmth across your cheeks was still tangible as you take your first sip. Your eyes drift back to Yoongi and find his gaze on you so you mouth a thanks, lifting the cup as if to toast him. He simply nods.

The wingman of the year suddenly appears by your side. “Y’all good now?”

“I don't know what you mean, Chim Chim.” You slurp from your drink loudly for show.

Jimin sighs, “He’s not telling me anything.”

“Then I'm not either.”

His nose flares. “Nah. Fuck both of you. Truly. After all I–”

Sejin hollers your name, and you flash Jimin a quick peace sign, cutting him off mid-sentence. He’s left behind, pouting like a baby as you walk away with a grin.

After an hour or so, the shoot almost wraps up. Feeling peckish, you are surmising the food in the mini catering setup in the other room, when you sense someone behind you. Strangely enough, you know who it is just by the way he was dragging his shoes and the timbre of his inhale.

“You smell nice,” Yoongi says in a casual drawl, looking over your shoulder to check the food out.

The tiny hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Maybe you did sneak in an extra spray of perfume before leaving the hotel and made sure to hit the pulse points, because, you know, pheromones and attraction and all that…

Before your mind goes off the deep end, you default to defense mode. “You better not be saying that to everyone… kinda creepy.”

Completely disregarding your attempt to downplay the compliment, he replies, “Hmm. Didn't peg you as the jealous type.”

You pout, trying to look offended but failing miserably.

Shifting gears, he asks, “You busy today?” and places the tiny blue macaron on your plate that you were about to reach for, before pushing a peach one inside his mouth.

“I’ve the rest of the day, but you have to go to Anderson Paak’s house.”

“You’re not coming?” he asks mid-chew, the sweet treat pushed aside creating a dent on the inside of his cheek.

“His team requests for the meeting to be ‘intimate and organic,’ their words not mine, so it's just your interpreter, and your bodyguard.”

“But you’re my…” The beginning of his complaint halts. Cat got his tongue. 

He blinks. You blink. It’s just ridiculous at this point, the emotional constipation. He could have easily just said manager, because really that’s what you are for all professional intents and purposes. But you both know you are also at the precipice of something new, teetering on the edge of becoming real. Neither of you has said it yet. Not out loud, anyway.

“We really need to talk.” You decide.

“Tonight,” he agrees with a tight-lipped smile.

“Like really talk.”

“Kay.” he brushes powdered sugar off his hands and onto his slacks. “I’ll be in your room by 8.”

“Please don't try to bust the door down this time, Gaston. Just use the doorbell.”

He crinkles his nose at you and with a small huff he goes back to set, a satisfied grin on your face and hope blooming in your chest that everything will be fine. 

***

At 10 past 8 in the evening, you finally hear the doorbell. You drag your hotel slippers-clad feet to the door, stopping by the mirror briefly to check your appearance before pulling the door knob. You were just wearing a shirt and tiny sleep shorts, but you did add a flavored balm to your lips in case.

“Hiiii babyyyy,” Voice slurred, Yoongi’s squinty face comes into view, and your eyes bug out as you find Bangtan’s interpreter Nicole and bodyguard Sunjae holding him up by the elbows.

Reeking of alcohol and maybe a hint of something even more suspicious, he stumbles into your room, kicking off his dunks which lands with a dull thud somewhere you can’t see.

“Explain, please?” you eye his bodyguard who scratches the back of his neck, before he sheepishly recounts how Anderson Paak was all about the vibes…

The fuck?!

Before you can ask more questions, “C’mere baby, I missed youuuu…” Yoongi croons from the couch.

Maybe it was too late, but still, you hold your hands in front of you in an attempt to deny whatever impression they now have of your relationship, “Guys, it’s really not what it looks like, okay?”

“It’s fine,” Nicole assures you awkwardly, holding two thumbs up. “He talked a lot about you in the car, you know? Like a lot. I’m… We’re happy for you guys.” The bodyguard also nods. “And we won’t tell the company.”

Flabbergasted, the sharpest intake of air pierces your lungs. What do they know? And do they know more than you at this point? You just hate Min Yoongi sometimes.

“Alright, I guess I’ll take it from here. Thank you, both,” you say with a tense smile and click the door shut, pressing your forehead on the door before facing the drunkie in your living room who was attempting to turn on the TV with the remote control of the AC.

Great.

This is a version of Yoongi you don’t get to see that frequently. He was ditzy-drunk, a needy, chatty, loopy Yoongi that is actually quite endearing if you remove the fact that he will be hungry in an hour or so (pizza with pickles, usually; sometimes some kind of noodles) and the night typically ends with a good ol’ barf. You’ve dealt with ditzy-drunk Yoongi before and the best solution you’ve found is to just ride the wave.

Slouched on the couch with his legs spread, Yoongi has a lazy but naughty smile on his face as you approach. You wanna be mad so bad, but fuck, he actually looks kinda cute right now.

He tilts his head to the side, jutting his lips out, “Are you mad?”

“No…” you sigh, flopping down next to him.

“Then sit here.” He taps his lap.

“I’m fine here.”

“This is better, I promise. It’s ergonomic.” He presents his lap as a chair with a flourish. You swear, this guy and his weird vocabulary of equally useful and useless knowledge.

You move to settle your body on his thighs, swinging your legs over to straddle him. His mouth stretches into a big grin, satisfied to have your weight on him.

“Why are you so tense?” he places his hands on your shoulders, massaging downward to your elbows. 

“We were supposed to talk, but now you’re so out of it,” you sigh.

“I have very high alcohol tolerance, excuse you!”

“Yes, but you’re drunk af right now!”

“False. I’m not at all drunk at all.”

“Wow. So believable,” you deadpan.

“Yah! Why don’t you believe me? Why does no one ever believe me?”

Even ARMY knows he word-vomits when he lies. And when he’s drunk. Deadly combo.

“Ok, prove it. You want to talk, right? So talk.”

He blinks owlishly at you, as you challenge him with your raised brows.

“Thinking is soooo hard,” he complains, before he perks up with an idea. “Ah! Ask me questions and I will answer them.” 

A rare opportunity to let Yoongi yap voluntarily. Cool, you’ll take it.

“How many drinks did you have?”

“Yes,” he nods confidently. 

You massage your temples with your fingers and sigh. This was going to be a long night.

You end up asking the most random things and Yoongi gives either the most unhinged or deeply unsatisfying responses. At some point during the night, some instant ramen was had (thanks to Jungkook who dropped off some from his stash), after which, Yoongi, as expected, ended up doubled over on the toilet. 

As you watched him heave the contents of his stomach, the rancid smell making your own tummy turn, the one thing that you thought was what a mess he was, but you want him to be yours. Your messy, loopy, ditzy, drunkie, Yoongi. Yours.

Eyes pitiful, mouth upturned, with orange locks grouped in sweat, poor Yoongi grasps the seat of the toilet, asking, “Can I borrow a shirt?”

You push the hair away from his forehead, nodding, “Of course, baby.” 

After a shower, he emerges from the bathroom with your (his) white tshirt, remnants of ditzy-drunk Yoongi long gone, and in comes the version you love, barefaced and beautiful. 

What a masterpiece, Min Yoongi is, and you wonder how it is that some higher being crafted someone with such a delicate face with a mind so captivating and a heart so wonderful. And you haven’t even seen his cock at this point. What if that is a beaut, too?

He walks towards you, head flicked to one side as he rubs a towel on his damp hair.

“Mint, Yoongi? Might settle your tummy,” you gesture to the cup of tea on the coffee table.

“Angel.” He says, padding over to the console with the towel draped on his neck. A slurp and a satisfied mmm later, he settles beside you.

“Are we still playing the game?” You ask.

A pause, but his response surprises you, “I guess we are.” 

And so you decide to ask something you’ve been curious about since he got there. Because as much fun as you had conversing with him on petty shit, you are really desperate to know how to move forward with him. 

“What did you tell Nicole and Sunjae about me?” you hug your pajama-covered knees.

He lets out a faint chuckle, gaze fixed firmly on the floor as if it holds all the answers. “You should have asked this earlier.”

“I’m asking now,” you face him slightly, trying to read his expression.

By the looks of it, it’s not like he doesn’t know or forgot. The pressure was internal. The hesitation was borne out of years of evading uncomfortable unknowns, which served him well, until it didn’t. You can almost hear the gears turning in his head, thoughts being organized, distilled, rationalized. That’s just how Yoongi is.

And because where he is avoidant, you were non-confrontational. So you open your mouth, about to offer him an out. Maybe you didn’t have to talk about it today? Maybe you should just put a pin on it and maybe talk about it when you’re both ready–like after another decade? Cool cool…

But this time, he shifts. His palm rests face up on his knee, an invitation for you to hold. You place your hand in his, feeling the warmth radiating through his skin, grounding you both.

The television is still on, bathing his features in blue light as you observe him. He picks up the remote and shuts the screen off, the sudden silence working to thicken the tension in the air.

You’re so nervous for some reason that you can feel your palms sweating against his. You already kissed. He already told you he was yours. You just need to sign the dotted line. Sober.

“I told them,” he begins, his voice low and steady, eyes fixed straight ahead on the blank TV. “That you’re everything to me. You’re my best friend. You’re my dream.”

Your heart pounds in your chest, the words reverberating through you like a symphony.

“I think we both know this isn’t just…like we’re not just…you know.” His hand tightens around yours as he bites his lip, struggling to find the right words. “It hasn’t been just friendship for a long time. At least for me.”

“There’s this song I wrote… umm, I was gonna play it for you in the studio when we got home. Fuck it’s so cringe now that I think about it. But, yeah, that was the plan.” He laughs softly, and you can’t help but laugh along, the sound of your shared amusement creating a bridge between you.

Your name falls from his lips, so you glance up and find his warm eyes connecting with yours.

“I love you,” he rasps, voice sincere and raw. “I’ve loved you for so long. Can’t even recall a time that I didn’t.”

Before your mind can catch up with your heart, you crash your lips on his unceremoniously and desperately. You’re back on his lap, hands resting against his chest, feeling the steady, reassuring beat of his heart beneath your fingertips. You kiss him fiercely, pouring all your unspoken feelings into the action. His hand moves into your hair, gently pulling you closer, deepening the kiss.

While your first kiss was passionate, it was laced with so many residual emotions that built up over the course of last night. Frustration, anger, hunger quickly took over both of you the moment your lips finally met, quickly escalating into, well, the best oral of your life, apparently. So no regrets there.

But this kiss—this one—was it. The kind you'd remember fondly when you’re old and gray of what it feels like to be really kissed. Enlightening, like finding the final piece of a puzzle you’d been working on since your youth. Filled with all the love and years of words left unsaid, like a pin code, a password, a key, that only he knew how to unlock.

As you pull away, breathless but content, you look into his eyes and respond clearly, simply, “I love you too, Yoongi.”

And in that moment, as your eyes meet like you were the only two remaining in the world, everything feels right.

“But I can’t believe you let your bodyguard hear that confession first.” 

“Aish!”

“I thought it would at least be Jimin.”

“Fuck that. Don’t even talk about another man right now.”

Suddenly that tone is back and your body starts to tense in response. He grips your hips and pulls you against him so you can properly feel the ridge of his cock right against your clothed folds. Yep, that’s a semi.

“You better be nice to me,” his hands move to squeeze your ass expertly, encouraging you to roll forward. Who are you to decline? Not when the pressure from his bulge is caressing your center in the best possible way.

Your body threatens to give in, but the brat in you is still in fighting form, “Or else what?”

“I think you know how nice I can be,” he husks, moving to place teasing kisses on your neck, sucking on the skin to leave a mark. God, that feels good.

“I uh m-might need help remembering.”

He smiles against your neck, his breathy voice tickling you a bit, “You got amnesia, baby?”

You nod meekly, hands roaming towards the back of his neck.

“You better remember my name when I fuck you,” he licks the shell of your ear and you gasp, a gush of liquid soaking your panties.

“Take this off,” he commands, hungry eyes dipping down to your chest.

“So demanding,” you risk the cheeky remark and as expected, you get his unimpressed look. Ok, ok. You’ll be good now.

You lift your shirt by the hem and before you can even pull it over your head, his big, warm hands seize your breasts as they bounce free.

“Fuuuck, baby, I love these. I love these a lot.” He shakes his head in disbelief, bringing your tits together, enjoying how soft they felt in his grasp.

Preening at his dazed reaction, you arch your body forward, placing your chest directly in his sightline. “They’re yours, baby.”

“Uh huh,” he grunts, licking his bottom lip before moving towards one of your nipples. Your eyes threaten to close as the warmth of his mouth envelopes your nub. But you want this moment forever ingrained in your mind–with the way he is mouthing your tits, murmuring his dirty thoughts, lips pushing and teeth pulling. He moves to your other breast, giving it the same treatment, while a hand takes the one his mouth just left, flicking the swollen tip with his index finger to send more jolts of pleasure through you.

“How did you get so good at that?” you mumble, unable to keep your eyes open anymore, your fingers getting lost in his hair.

“How did these get so juicy,” he growls against your spit-covered tit and you feel his teeth clamping down hard.

You moan loudly as arousal pools at your core. “Fuck we should have done this sooner.” 

With a small chuckle, he taps your thigh once, and says, “Meet me in the bedroom,” and you are immediately on your feet, leaving him rummaging through his bag for what you assume is a condom. The triumphant “ha!” you hear confirms it.

Okay, so what do you do now? You start with removing your little shorts and chucking it somewhere on the side, leaving you with your basic as hell black cotton panties, but it’s as good as it gets right now. How do you make this sexy, like do you lie down on your tummy, giving him a great view of your cleavage, or stay sat pushing your boobs together like an anime girl. Why you’re acting brand new is beyond you, but your–

“What are you doing?”

You halt your movements, ending up in an awkward mermaid pose that you don’t even know if it looks good. “Umm…” 

Cute, you think you hear him say, before he lifts his shirt up and off his body and you get a view of the smooth, pale planes of his torso and his dusty nipples that have your mouth watering. Your eyes continue to drink his unintentional strip tease, watching hungrily as he removes his boxers to let his cock spring free.

“Fuck…” Unfair. Just unfair how gorgeous he is.

By the looks of it, he knows what you want, feline eyes taunting you as he pokes the inside of his cheek before grasping the base of his cock, tugging at it once. “You know what to do, or uh–do I have to shove it in?”

Quickly, you drop to your knees, feeling a little bit of rug burn that you might whine about later, and you slide your hands up towards the back of his inner thigh to anchor yourself.

You were never into power dynamics and all that with your past lovers, but there was something about Yoongi in the bedroom that made you want to be a bratty sub. Something told you that he would enjoy taming you, too.

“If you knew what to do, you would actually shove it in,” you say with misplaced cockiness, not knowing you were going to regret it in about five seconds.

He shakes his head with a disbelieving grin as if to say you’re going to be in big trouble. You gulp as his long fingers grasp the length of your jaw to squeeze your cheeks, forcing your lips to form an O-shape. “Open up.”

You do as he says and as expected, he does shove it in. 

He groans as his cock hits the back of your throat. You sputter a bit and you hate how it makes you look like an amateur, but the truth is, you’ve never really taken anyone of his size. 

With him still in your mouth, his thumb caresses the side of your cheek, concerned that he might have hurt you, “You okay, baby?”

You nod even as tears threaten to spill from your eyes, not wanting to disappoint him. With a softened expression, he lets his cock fall away from your mouth, but you immediately catch it in your hand with renewed vigor. You pump him for a few strokes before plugging the tip with your mouth as your hand continues the motions.

He hisses loudly as you lick the pre-cum that has pooled in his slit, his salty taste and heady scent invading your senses, springing you to do more. Cheeks hollowed you move to take all of him in your mouth, coating the smooth ridges with your saliva, before his head hits your throat. You’re ready this time, moaning as you keep his entire cock lodged inside.

“Shit,” he exhales breathlessly, a hand combing through his hair as he tips his head back.

Taking it as a good sign, you glide in and out faster, pressing your tongue against a thick vein that runs along the underside of his dick. Your hands move upwards towards the meat of his ass and you squeeze and push him further into you, eliciting a low groan from him.

He clumps a fistful of your hair into a haphazard ponytail as he rocks forward, gauging your reaction as he starts with some experimental shoves. You look up at him, nodding, a silent surrender. The corners of his lips lifts up in a snarl as you place both hands behind your back, relinquishing all control to him.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he grunts as his hips buck into your mouth. Eyes watering, mascara streaks your cheeks as he continues his assault. You keep your head clear, breathing through your nose, wanting, no, needing to make this good for him.

You’re pulled from your thoughts when he lightly tugs your hair, and groans, “Shit, baby— baby, stop.”

He releases your hair and uses his index finger to tip your chin up so he can assess you. Your brows are furrowed, unsure why he stopped.

Slightly out of breath and sporting a lopsided grin, he calls you, “my perfect girl” and your worries subside as he explains, “I had to stop ‘cause it was getting too good. Don’t wanna cum yet.”

You’ve obviously found Yoongi attractive, but he deadass is his hottest right now, dazed and disheveled from being pleasured by you. 

He grips his cock and begins to trace your swollen lips with it to smear his slick all over you like a gloss. “So gorgeous…”

You preen at his praise, sticking your tongue out so he can play with your mouth more. He slaps his cock against your tongue a few times, your saliva dribbling down your chin. You taste minute drops of his cum as he works the tip of his dick against your wet muscle in tiny circles.

Your jaw hurts like hell, your face is a mess, but he is looking at you like you are heaven-sent, as if you were carved out by the gods and bestowed to him as a present. With this realization, your heart squeezes with emotions you can’t place. All you know is that you’re willing to do anything and everything for him, his happiness, your own.

You are truly fuckin’ whipped.

“Up baby, let me take care of you,” he scoops you by the elbow, guiding you to the bed. You crawl atop the mattress, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, and yelp when you feel a playful little slap against your butt.

“Can’t help it,” Yoongi says, moving on top of you, floppy bangs covering his teasing eyes.

He uses the pad of his thumb to rub off some of the mascara from under your eyes, then moves some of your hair away from your face. The softness in his gaze fills you with wonder, and for a few charged moments you both just look at each other, before you break the silence with a tender confession.

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” you tell him as he strokes your cheek.

He smiles. Nods and says, “Me too,” then he kisses you, softly, with gentle caresses of his tongue against the seam of your lips. “You have no idea how long I’ve imagined you like this.”

“Hope it didn’t disappoint.”

“Nah you’re more than perfect.”

Eyes round, lips pouty, warmth blooms across your cheeks at his praise, unable to say a word. You? Perfect? 

“Stop being so damn cute when I’m supposed to be fucking you.” He pecks your nose, then down to your lips where he lingers. You push your tongue against his mouth and he is ready to suck on it softly, swallowing your moans. His kisses start getting rougher and faster, as your fingernails lightly claw his smooth back. He’s got you whimpering when he pulls your plush bottom lip with his teeth and releases it with a dull pop.

His breath fans your cheeks as he moves to pepper kisses along your jaw, towards the sensitive spot behind your ear and down your neck. All the while his hands are traveling all over your skin, leaving a trail of fire in its wake.

As you continue to explore each other's mouths, you're starting to become too aware that your pussy is leaking, feeling abandoned, aching for friction. You could do it, dip your hands under the waistband of your panties and take the edge off a bit, but where’s the fun in that?

“Touch me, please Yoongi,” you ask breathlessly. 

“I am.” he licks a tender spot on your neck that makes you gasp, while his hand gently caresses the base of your throat, squeezing it experimentally. Another gasp escapes you.

“Lower, please…” 

“Where?” he asks playfully. “Here?” He tweaks a nipple and you whine. “Or here?” He lets his fingers move to the mound of your pussy before he hooks your panty to the side and slides his fingers to your leaking entrance.

You wail as the touch you have been craving for finally comes. Yoongi looks ever so pleased with your reaction, biting his lip as his fingers work your clit in slow circles underneath the soaked cotton.

Insane. You’re starting to be driven insane just by the feel of his veiny fingers gathering your arousal and coating your nub with every slow stroke.

Mouth, you desperately need his mouth. You cup the side of his face to pull him towards you and your mouths move languidly, matching the pace of his fingers.

“Wanna be inside you,” he murmurs against your lips.

“Yeah?”

“Uh huh. But I need you to cum first, can you do that for me?”

“Okay, I’m close.” 

His index and middle finger picks up its pace stroking against the sides of your clit. The pressure in your body builds, and you can no longer control the way your body jerks at the mounting bliss.

“Let it happen,” he licks your bottom lip. “Cum.”

And finally your body succumbs, thighs clenching hard as you coat his fingers with the outpouring of your pleasure. 

Pulling his fingers from your pussy, he makes a show of licking your creamy cum from his fingers and you almost go cross-eyed with how feral the act is making you.

“Gimme a sec,” he drops a kiss on your forehead before moving to roll away from your body, and you assume he was about to get the condom. 

An urge comes to mind and you are powerless to stop your mouth from blurting it out.

“You don’t have to,” you tell him shyly, sitting up while he pulls the packet from his discarded shorts. “I’m on the pill, and am clean.” And you know he is, too, because you regularly monitor his wellness checks. 

Yoongi stands by the foot of the bed, mouth parting and closing wordlessly like a fish as he tries to decipher your words.

And you know you needn’t say this, but it’s out before you think better of it, “it’s been umm years since my last.”

Yoongi closes his eyes for a few seconds as if weighing his options. “You sure?”

“I want to feel you.” Fingers closing in on his dick, you pump his length, bringing it back to life. “All of you.”

“Fuck,” he groans, nodding. “You drive a hard bargain.”

“How do you want me?”

“Just lay down, I need to see your face when I fuck you.”

You do as he says and your back hits the plush duvet. He pulls your panties down your legs, throwing it on the floor carelessly. He crawls on top of your naked body and you hook your legs around his waist. Your heart pounds in anticipation.

“I’m gonna warn you, I might not last,” he aligns himself by your entrance, and finally sinks his cock inside your swollen pussy. You groan in unison as he bottoms out with ease, lost in the euphoria of each other's bodies.

For a moment, he stays lodged in you just like that, girth nestled against your folds, while your body adjusts to the welcome intrusion. The feeling consumes you whole–warm, wet, wonderful. You take deep, controlled breaths as you fight the urge to rut against him, but your inner walls can’t help but clench.

“Fuck, you feel so good, but I really need to move.”

“Promise we can cockwarm next time?”

“Uh huh.” and with that he starts to thrust into you in short, stuttered strokes, making you gasp for air.

“Fuuuckin hell you’re so tight,” he grunts, chasing the high of his release as dirty words continue to spill from his mouth.

You push your boobs together, his eyes magnetized by the action and watches as you pinch both nipples, making you moan. 

“Yoongi…” you say his name wantonly, drunk in your desire for him. “Just use me, baby.”

Growling, he guides your leg above his shoulder for a better angle, and his pace increases tenfold. The sound of skin slapping on skin fills the room, mixed with helpless whines and grunts.

The familiar coil tightens in your belly.

“Touch yourself,” he insists and your hand slides down to where your bodies meet. Your clit is swollen, sticky as you rub it in circular motions timing it with his thrusts. “Are you close?”

“Mmh…” you nod. “So close…”

“Me too,” he pushes inside you rapidly, deeply, like he wants you to feel him for days. His thrusts are getting erratic, and you can see that he is incredibly close with the way his brows are pinched.

Electricity crackles between you, an invisible force leaping from your body to his, building with every shared thrust. His grip on your thighs are firm, and your nails are sure to leave indents on his shoulder. Everywhere your bodies meet, a spark ignites—a surge of energy that only grows stronger.

“I’m cumming,” he warns and it’s a miracle you’re able to respond with “I’m there…” as each movement sends another jolt, until the air itself hums with the raw, electric charge of your passion and you both cum at the same time.

You feel radiant and you swear you’ve never felt more alive.

Meanwhile, Yoongi looks absolutely destroyed as he sets your leg down, and you love it. Impenetrable, aloof, Min Yoongi brought to his demise by your pussy of all things.

He buries his face on the crook of your neck, his breaths tickling your skin. Slowly he eases out of you, and you hiss as you feel his sticky cum seep from your entrance.

“I thought I couldn’t be more in love with you, but shit I was wrong,” he mumbles, face still nestled by the top of your shoulder.

You don’t know what to say. So you keep it simple. “I love you, too, baby.”

After a whirlwind of a night, you and Yoongi quietly begin to clean up. You cuddle for a stretch of time, showering each other with the sweetest words. He hands you a bottle of water from the side table with a small smile, and for a while, you both just soak in the calm.

He finishes washing up first and heads back to the bed, scrolling aimlessly on his phone. Meanwhile, you're still in the ensuite, brushing your teeth, catching a glimpse of him as you finish up. The whole moment feels easy, like the perfect end to a long night.

“We can go out tomorrow if you’re down,” he says, as you spit the mouthwash on the sink.  “I’ll take care of everything.”

“Aww. Our first date, huh?”

“We’ve been in plenty. You just didn’t know.”

Really?

You peek your head from the doorway of the bath, “ Yeah, but this will be my first as your girlfriend.”

That got him cheesing, nose wrinkling to hide a shy smile that was so unlike the beast that he was just a few minutes ago.

“What’s taking you so long? I already miss you,” he says pointedly, and you bound back to bed like his little pup and into his awaiting arms.

“I can get used to this,” he says against your forehead, pressing his lips to it.

“I still want to hear the song, by the way,” you mumble, referring to the supposed track that he was going to use to confess. “What is it called?”

“That That.”

“Shut the fuck up,” you slap his chest as he chuckles to himself. Not the crack song with Psy. You roll your eyes, ‘cause he thinks he is so funny, but he just cages you in tighter.

“No title yet, but you get to listen to it when we go home.”

“Mmkay.”

The next morning, you’re back from the breakfast buffet, where you sufficiently replaced all the calories you burned last night, and decide to chill in your room. Meanwhile, Yoongi makes some arrangements for your date.

Lounging on the couch, you are scrolling through IG, when a video call from your mom pops up. You quickly swipe to answer, smiling as her face appears on the screen.

“Hey, dumpling! How’s work?” she greets you with your childhood moniker, grinning like she always does when she sees you.

“Busy, but good,” you reply, while propping your phone against the lamp on the side table. “You know, the usual chaos. We’ll be home in a few days…”

“That’s good.” Then, without missing a beat, she narrows her eyes a little, leaning in toward the camera as if that’s going to make her point clearer. “So… did you use one of your dating apps while you’re there? Are you seeing anyone yet?”

She’s been asking you this for months, though always with that loving impatience that makes it hard to get annoyed. 

Thankfully, today is the day that you have a different answer. “Actually… yeah. I have a boyfriend,” you admit, cheeks heating up.

Your mom’s face lights up immediately, her teasing forgotten. “Omo! Finally! That’s wonderful news. I was starting to think I’d have to phone Min Yang-hee and arrange…”

And of course, Min Yang-hee’s very own son, completely oblivious to the call, walks into view. And of course, he’s shirtless. Because why wouldn’t he be showing off those sweet little nips right now? And of course he is wearing low-hanging gray sweatpants. Because why wouldn’t his dickprint taunt you at the most inconvenient time?

“Baby, can I borrow your—” his voice cuts off as he realizes what’s happening. He freezes mid-step, eyes flicking between you and the phone.

“Yoongi-yah?!” your mom exclaims, her eyes practically sparkling.

Yoongi blinks, then awkwardly grins, as he grabs a throw pillow from the couch to shield his chest. “Oh… good morning, eomonim. Didn’t know you were, uh, here.”

Your mom’s grin turns downright mischievous. “Well, well, well. Look who finally makes a move! I was telling dumpling that I was about to call your…”

”Eomma!” You bury your face in your hands, feeling your cheeks burn with the insinuation of an arranged marriage.

“What?” she says, all fake innocence. “I’m just saying. Took you long enough, Yoongi. You’ve been trailing after her since you two were kids.”

Yoongi scratches the back of his neck, clearly embarrassed, but laughing along. “Eomonim, good things take time, right?”

“Oh, I’m sure. And look at you—future grandkids are gonna have such a handsome father.”

No, your own mother did not just check your boyfriend out. “Eomma, stop…”

“But don't think I haven't been keeping up with the news. Young man, you seem to have been getting wedding proposals left and right, you better not break my dumpling’s heart.”

“Please eomma.” You say even though you were getting a little teary-eyed from her being over protective of you.

“She’s the only woman I've been interested in, eomonim. As you said, since we were kids.”

“That’s what I like to hear. Quick, let’s add your eomma here! Such good news needs to be shared.”

Yoongi, now a deep shade of pink, chuckles nervously. 

“Maybe later. We have a schedule to go to…” you interject.

“Is that what you kids call having se—“

“Love you, eomma!” You eye her pointedly, sufficiently mortified by the whole conversation.

Still grinning, your mom waves you off. “Love you, too, dumpling.”

Yoongi ended up renting a convertible and driving you all over town.

For lunch, you visit a charming café in the Arts District. The place is known for its artisan sandwiches and freshly pressed juices. You share a sandwich, a soup, and a salad, enjoying each other’s company and a few laughs over a meal that’s as delightful as it is delicious. 

Then you move to a coffee shop you had wanted to try and it turned out to be a gem. The café was warm, cozy, with the faint hum of chatter and the clink of mugs surrounding you both. You sat across from him, your hands intertwined on the table, his thumb mindlessly stroking the back of your hand as you talked. The conversation was light, random, teasing—the kind of banter that always made you feel like the two of you were in your own little world.

“So, if you could magically transport us anywhere right now, where would we go? And don’t say ‘bed’—I swear you can’t always be sleeping.”

“Can I say bed, but not ‘cause I want to sleep?” He smirks, leaning back in his chair, still holding your hand, his middle finger rubbing your knuckles teasingly.

You scold him, “You’re so shameless!” and try to pull your hand away but he keeps his grip tight. He takes a few moments to think about his response.

“Maybe somewhere snowing like Sapporo. It’s going to be too cold for you to keep checking your phone every five minutes when we’re out.”

You look up from your phone screen guiltily, abandoning the email notification that flashed. “I have to ’cause I work for your famous ass,” you huff. 

“About that…” Yoongi starts, and you know he meant your resignation.

You sigh, realizing you haven’t really discussed this with him. “Sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

“Baby,” he leans forward, eyes kind. “You don’t have to apologize, okay? You have your reasons and I respect it. I’ll always support you.”

“I think this would be good for me, you know? Try something new.” You add, “There’s this corner spot close to my flat that I’ve been looking to lease.”

“For your cafe?” his face lights up, remembering your dream from way back.

“For my cafe,” you nod, heart expanding with the excitement you see in his eyes.

“Do it.” he says. “And if you need a handsome barista to help out once in a while you know I live just two streets down.”

You laugh, shaking your head, enjoying how easily he can make you smile.

“But I can’t afford you.”

“I’ll take payments in kisses and blo–”

“Min Yoongi!”

“I’m just playing, baby.”

His hand is still on yours, his fingers tracing gentle circles along your knuckles. It was so natural, so comfortable, that you barely notice when his touch becomes a little more deliberate, more precise.

It is not until you prepare to leave that you notice something different. You stand, bag tucked on the crook of your arm, and as you reach for your jacket, you see it—a tiny paper ring, made from a straw wrapper, folded with care and snug around your finger. 

Suddenly, butterflies swarm in your stomach.

You look at him, eyebrows raised, holding up your hand as if it were evidence in a crime scene. “Yoongi?” you ask with a playful smile.

He blinks, trying to look innocent. “What? Wasn’t me.”

“Uh-huh,” you step closer, your eyes narrowing. “So, it just magically appeared on my finger?”

He shrugs, leaning casually against the back of his chair. “Must’ve been the wind. Or, you know, maybe it’s a sign. The universe is telling you something.”

You can’t help but laugh, feeling your cheeks warm as you play along. “And what exactly is the universe trying to tell me?”

He gave you that signature smirk of his, the one that always made your (and the entire ARMY’s) heart skip a beat. “That you’ve been claimed. Obviously.”

You roll your eyes, but can’t stop smiling. “Ah, really? Claimed by some mysterious paper-ring-tying ghost?”

He shrugs again, standing up and taking your hand as you both walk toward the door. “Who knows? But if I were you, I’d hold on to that. Could be worth something one day.”

You glanced down at your finger again, your chest warm with affection. “Yeah,” you agree softly, squeezing his hand. “I think I will.”

You continue your date along the backstreets of the Strip, away from the towering hotels and flashy fountains. As you stroll in silence, enjoying the sights, your fingers mindlessly play with the little ring on your finger, and his voice echoes in your head: “You’ve been claimed.”

And suddenly, you realize it’s true. You’ve claimed each other long before today’s paper ring and long before last night’s confession.

Every day since you’ve become close friends, you’ve claimed each other in the most ordinary ways. With every mundane moment and seemingly random act of kindness, you’ve expressed your love without needing grand declarations.

He knows exactly how you like your coffee and the perfect time to bring it to you. He carries your bag even when you insist you can manage on your own and even with his own busted shoulder. He always saves a seat for you—of course, right next to him. You have a suitcase here and a closet full of his shirts back home. He wears your black hair tie on his wrist and has a whole drawer full of them at his place. You know his five shades of drunk, and you know just the right kind of tea to cure his hangover.

He has truly been yours, and you, his. You both have just been too oblivious to see it. As the realization hits you like a freight train, your gaze lands on a sign that inspires you to show him just how committed you are. Sure, it’s bold and completely out of character for you, but you don’t want to think it through. It’s stupid. But who cares? You’re in love.

 “You wanna get matching tattoos?”

Yoongi’s POV

Min Yoongi likes being in Las Vegas. And maybe this is why. 

This is where he finally gets lucky. And not in the crass sort of way.

Here, he has felt a surge of courage he’s never had before, pushing him to act on feelings he’s kept hidden for way too long. And while confessing to you still felt like a gamble, he was more ready and willing to roll the dice and see where it lands. 

People say what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas. But for Min Yoongi, this time is different. He’s determined to make it last—just like the identical lotus tattoo that now sits on his wrist and on yours. It isn’t just a reminder of this wild adventure; it symbolizes the beginning of something real and lasting between you two.

After getting inked, he decides to drive away from the city, heading towards a scenic cliffside spot he found on Google that morning. He thought it would be the perfect place to unwind and catch the sunset, while enjoying the spam musubi and Slurpees you got from the gas station nearby. Truth be told, he thought maybe he could sneak in a makeout session with you, too, something he knew couples would sometimes do in places like this. (At least that’s what he’s seen in American movies!) Being an idol often kept him from enjoying “normal” things, and since he couldn’t exactly do this with you near the Han without the fear of being on Dispatch that same night, he figured it would be a fun escape to pretend he was just an ordinary guy taking his girl out on a date in this foreign city.

He sits on the hood of the convertible, the metropolis stretching out below, a sea of lights slowly flickering on as the sun dips toward the horizon. You’re nestled against him, your head resting on his chest, his arm draped comfortably over your shoulders. 

Your phone is connected to the car speakers and it’s currently playing a ballad. He hears you hum softly but his mind drifts elsewhere, somewhere between the quiet beauty of the moment and the thoughts that have been building for weeks—maybe even longer.

It started with that whole Yoongi Marry Me thing. Who knew that cheeky little “bring the documents” quip he said in one live will set off a whole ass thing with ARMY. Or with the whole kpop industry, modesty aside.

Almost everyday the phrase is repeated to him, especially by the members (fuckin Taehyung!). Fans have been showing up to concerts in veils. Chats are filled to the brim with that proposal whenever any of the members goes live. Even when he is not there.

It’s all been fun and games until you. Until you said it. And you had to keep saying it, then suddenly it didn’t feel like a joke anymore. He started thinking he wouldn’t mind it. Like at all.

You’ve planted a seed in his brain that just kept blooming and blooming. Seeing all the wedding chapels in Las Vegas only served as potent fertilizer. And now the concept has fully blossomed in his heart and taken root in his mind.

He feels the warmth of you leaning into him, your breathing soft and steady, your humming so sweet, and everything about this moment feels… right. More right than any plan he’s ever made, more perfect than anything he could have mapped out for himself. It hits him then, with a kind of clarity that almost startles him.

He’s done with waiting. Done with the endless planning, the careful timelines, the stream of approvals needed for every thing he wanted to do. This, right here, is his everything. And for the first time, the idea of doing something spontaneous doesn’t terrify him. It excites him. A whole life with you excites him.

And fuck, if it’s good enough for Michael Jordan…

He glances at you, the way your eyes reflect the soft, fading light, and something roars in his chest—an overwhelming certainty that he can’t hold back anymore. He isn’t one for grand, impulsive gestures, but this doesn’t feel impulsive at all. It feels inevitable.

“What if we just… did it?” he asks, tone light, but heavy with intention.

You tilt your head, looking up at him with that curious smile he loves. “Did what?”

His fingers tighten ever so slightly on your shoulder as he turns to face you fully, feeling a rush of nervous excitement. “Got married. Right now. No more waiting, no more planning.”

He sees the surprise flash in your eyes, the slight parting of your lips as you process what he’s just said. He waits, letting the words sink in, watching as the curiosity in your eyes slowly fades into something else.

“You’re not joking?” you whisper, your voice tinged with disbelief.

He shakes his head, the last of the setting sun casting a golden glow over the both of you. "No. I’ve… we have planned everything in my life, but this... with you, I don’t want to plan anymore. Because what good are plans if you’re not gonna be in them, with me.”

He continues, voice more certain, committed. “I wanna do it. Now. Tonight. Let’s drive to the chapel, and if you’re ready... Let's get married.”

He watches your reaction closely, his heart pounding, but not out of fear. He’s not afraid anymore. He no longer needs to hide behind liquid courage to give you little hints of what he has been feeling deep inside. He knows what he wants—what has been right in front of him this whole time. And then, just to lighten the weight of the moment, he smiles, a small chuckle escaping him.

“Besides, I’m pretty sure we’ve got your eomma’s blessing already. She’d probably drive us there herself if she knew what I was thinking.”

You laugh, that soft sound that always makes his chest tighten in adoration. The way you smile at him now—there’s no hesitation in it, only the same certainty that he feels. The city lights flicker to life behind you, but all he can see is you and your bright, sparkly eyes. And how he wishes that you would grant him the eternity of looking into them.

“Let’s do it,” you nod at him, your voice steady and sure. “Right now.”

His heart soars. He bites his lip, squeezing your shoulder, and with one last glance at the fading sun, he slides off the hood of the car, offering you his hand.

As you hop down, he drops to one knee. Taking your hand, fingers delicately closing in on the paper ring that he placed on your finger earlier in the day.

“Y/n, marry me?”

“You sure you don't want me saying ‘Yoongi, marry me‘ instead. Has a better ring to it…”

“Hajimaaa! Why you gotta ruin the moment?!”

“Sorry, ok ok, do it again.” You try to placate him with a quick press of your lips to his forehead.

He shakes his head at you. Eyes narrowed, but fond. Fond in the way your eyes sparkle with glee, even as you bite your bottom lip. Fond in the way you look at him like he hung the moon and the stars in the sky and you know what, he would hang the entire galaxy for you if you asked him to.

So, no more waiting. No more planning.

He finally asks: “Baby, will you marry me?”

And you finally answer: “Yes!”

Epilogue

Jimin’s POV

Why is Tinder so, so dry? Jimin curses and contemplates tossing his phone in the trash.

But then his phone pings and when he looks at the notification, he sees that he is added in a Kakao group chat. 

Okay. He checks the members curiously. It’s with you and Yoongi hyung.

What are you fuckers up to this time?

Tbh, he was still kinda annoyed that neither of you had told him anything after what went down at the club. He literally babysat your dejected boytoy and had to crisis PR the shit out of the situation because Yoongi had to get slightly Agust D.

And seriously, how can you even stay mum to him of all people. He has listened to your every woe and whine for months about how Yoongi can’t even see you as more than a friend. Newsflash, he is obsessed with you! He has witnessed Yoongi’s pining for years and talked to him countless times to confess. ‘Cause, newsflash: you’re obsessed with him, too! 

Did his attempts at playing matchmaker work? Who knows? But damn did he try. Playing cupid for the two most emotionally constipated people he knows hasn’t been easy. So after everything he has done in the background for you two idiots, how dare you keep him in the da–

His thoughts are interrupted by three pings as three messages come in rapid succession.

First, a location pin:

📍The Little White Wedding Chapel, 1301 S Las Vegas Blvd, Las Vegas, NV

Then, a text from Yoongi that made him smile so wide.

Yoongi: Get your ass here right now we need a witness.

And lastly, yours that made his grin even wider.

You: Yoongi’s marrying me!!!

-THE END-

A/N: Thank you so, so much you beautiful human for reading this story. I am forever grateful that you decided to explore this silly little world with me.

I would love to hear from you! Please leave a comment or consider reblogging if you liked it. Til next!

Here's my new MYG x Reader story if you want more. :)